

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


(Jliap. Copyright No. 

Shelf. H 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


HEATHER’S MISTRESS 












































hta:ih 































HEATHER’S 

V. 

MISTRESS . . 


BY 

AMY LE FEUVRE 

AUTHOR OF c i PROBABLE SONS " 

u teddy’s button/’ “odd,” etc. 






NEW YORK 

T. Y. CROWELL & CO. 

1901 

v- 


Library of Congr^^l 

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JAN 28 190 ] 

Copyright entry 

XX' c . 

I SECOND COPY 


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Copyright. 1901, 

k T. Y. CROWELL & CO. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. Left alone 7 

II. A relation .21 

III. In an old-fashioned household ... 34 

IV. A struggle for freedom .... 47 

V. In Park Lane 61 

VI. A taste of town life 74 

VII. Duty’s call ....... 85 

VIII. Separation 98 

IX. The villagers no 

X. A summer lodger . . . , . .124 

XI. Brought into light 135 

XII. A fisherman . . . . . . . 151 

XIII. Bluebell’s return 164 

XIV. “ The right man ” 179 

XV. The old priory . . . . . .193 

XVI. A calamity 207 

XVII. In the old garden 220 

XVIII. With friends again ..... 231 

XIX. An unexpected offer 243 

XX. Abroad . . . . , . . . 255 

XXI. A treasure taken . . ■ . . . . 268 

XXII. Duty a good mistress 283 


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1 

Heather’s Mistress 


CHAPTER I 


LEFT ALONE 

“ By the fireside there are youthful dreamers, 
Building castles fair with stately stairways, 

Asking blindly 

Of the future what it cannot give them.” 

— Longfellow. 

y f r v f i ‘ i **/*\ i • 4* ' 

i, . • _ > J j V ' | f I r > . i j * J 

I T was a grey, dreary afternoon. Steady 
rain, leaden skies, and a flat straight road 
bordered by leafless hedges did not pro- 
vide a cheery outlook to the solitary walker. 
She stepped along bravely, a slim little figure in 
a grey ulster and a black straw hat. Her 
thoughts were far away from her surround- 
ings, and it was not until she reached a wooden 
gate leading up a drive, that she roused herself 
with a start. “ How wet I am!” she mur- 
mured; “ and here have I been carrying my 
umbrella unopened in my hand, spoiling my 
new hat! What will Abigail say?” 

7 


8 


Heather's Mistress 


3 


She passed through the gate and up the drive 
edged by tall shrubberies; and then came out 
before an old-fashioned red-brick house which 
had something forbidding and grim in the look 


of its ivy-clad walls and tall, narrow win- 
dows. 

She paused in the porch and shook out her 
damp garments with a grimace of disgust ; then 
quietly opening a glass door, she entered a 
small, square hall. It was dusk, and the dark 
oak walls and stone-flagged floor seemed cold 
and dreary. 

An old-fashioned oak stair-case rose from 

. i • r . , . 

the centre of it, and some oil portraits and a 
few antlers were dimly discernible on the walls. 

The girl opened a door on the right, and 
shutting it behind her, said, in a bright, clear 
voice : — • 

“ Bluebell, are you here? ” 

There was a bright wood-fire in the wide 


open fireplace, and the contrast to the dull grey- 
ness of the atmosphere without was striking. 
It was a long low room, with casement win- 
dows in deep recesses facing east and west. 
The walls were covered with a deep crimson 
flock paper, all the furniture was oak, dark 
with age; and the flickering fire-light played 
on some massive silver plate on a sideboard be- 


9 


Left Alone 

hind the door. A dark crimson cloth on the 
square centre table, and crimson curtains to the 
windows gave a most cosy look to the room. 
And perhaps the pleasantest picture in it was 
that of a young girl seated on the hearthrug, 
her elbows on a leather chair and a book before 
her in which she was engrossed. 

She raised her head at her sister’s entrance, 
then sprang to her feet. 

“ Oh, are you back already? I’ve been hav- 
ing a splendid time! ” 

Looking from one sister to the other, one 
would have no difficulty in deciding that they 
were twins. r 

.1 , J i i - , 1 i ‘ '• I * 1 

Each possessed the same bright brown hair 
which curled naturally round their broad white 
brows, and' was fastened in a careless fashion of 
their own in loose coils on the top of their 
heads. Their eyes were grey, with long, curl- 
ing lashes, but whilst Bluebell’s twinkled irre- 
pressibly and continually, Heather’s seemed to 
be looking out into the future with a soft 
dreaminess that was characteristic of her. 
Both had the same delicately cut features and 
clear pale skin ; both the determined little mouth 
and rounded chin <; and the pair of them in spite 
of country-made garments and a quaint, old- 
fashioned air, were interesting in the extreme. 


io Heather’s Mistress 

% 

» , 

” I don't doubt you have/' was Heather’s 
reply as, taking off her wet ulster she came over 
to the fire and seated herself in an easy-chair. 
“ It is a dreadful day out. Look at my boots ! 
They’re soaked through. I am so glad to be 
home again.” 

“ Why did you go? Rachael said she would 
go for you to-morrow.” 

“ Yes, I know,” and Heather gave a little 
sigh as she leant back and warmed her damp 
toes. Then after a minute she added abruptly : 
“ I went because I felt it would be right. 
Grandmother would have wished it. I have 
been thinking, Bluebell, that we have been 
wasting our time rather lately, and I think we 
ought not to read so much.” 

Bluebell laughed a little consciously, then she 
looked down at her black frock and shook her 

r * ' t * ‘T''\ t 

pretty head. 

“ It is just six weeks since grandmother died, 
and it seems a year. I don't think we could 
have lived through this time, Heather, if we 
had not found these books. It has made such 
a change in the house hasn’t it ? No invalid 
to read to or amuse, no one to watch over our 
words and actions. Suddenly we find our- 
selves our own mistresses, and our daily round 
of occupation all swept away. For three weeks 


! 


Left Alone 


1 1 


we haven’t seen a soul to speak to — I mean out- 
side the house. Every day is the same, and I 
suppose it always will be now. I am getting 
and enjoying fresh life in ‘ Ivanhoe,’ so don't 
you say it is waste of time.” 

Heather glanced at the book in question, then 
spoke rather hesitatingly. 

“ Of course, I know it is delicious. I am dy- 
ing to get to the end of 4 The Monastery ’ my- 
self, but I think we’re rather overdoing it. Sir 
Walter Scott won’t run away from us, we have 
plenty of time before us, and — and I think it 
unsettles us for our daily life.” 

“ No, it brings fresh thoughts into our heads 
I allow, but I don’t feel unsettled. I went over 
the store cupboard this morning with Abigail, 
made a fresh list for you to take into the town 
with you, then I mended some table napkins, 
and fed the canaries. And I also put our myr- 
tles out into the rain, and watered the green- 
house plants. After that, I settled myself with 
a good conscience to my reading, and, oh, how 
I wonder that grandmother never told us what 
treasures were in her book-case! ” 

“ Perhaps she did not think them suitable 
reading for us,” said Heather thoughtfully; 
“ you see, we have not been brought up like 
other girls; she was so particular! ” 


Heather’s Mistress 


i 2 

“ Well, we can do as we like now. There is 
no one in the wide world to give ns any advice. 
How do you like the sensation of it? ” 

Bluebell looked across at her sister with a 
gleam of mischief in her eye. 

Heather met her gaze gravely, then clasping 
her hands behind her neck, she rested her head 
against them, and said with much emphasis : 
“ Oh, it is dreadfully and awfully lonely. I 
have been thinking of it out in the rain. You 
and I with youth and health, and just enough 
money to live comfortably here, and only 
Abigail and Rachael ; not a friend or relative 
belonging to us. And I suppose we shall live 
on here all our lives and will never see a bit 
more of the world than just this corner of it. 
We have each other, but we shall never have 
any one else ; and we shall go on growing older 
and older and our days will be just the same; 
and Abigail will order us about and manage us 
as if we were still children up to the very 
last.” ‘ 1 ■ • 

Bluebell's laughing lips took serious curves. 
“ I don't think we shall always live like this. I 
am looking for a benighted traveller ; a prince 
in disguise to arrive one day and then suddenly 
we shall find our lives changed. Joking apart, 
don’t you think we have a single relation in the 


Left Alone 


*3 

world? Everybody has some relations how- 
ever distant, why should not we? ” 

“We will ask Abigail. Grandmother never 
would talk to us about our family, but I al- 
ways understood from her we had none. 
Father was her only son, and mother was an 
only daughter.” 

There was a pause/then Bluebell said: “I 

don’t think our lives will be empty. We have 
a lot of interests here: All the poor people 

that grandmother used to relieve. You have 
your old blind man to read to every week. I 
have my Band of Hope with the children, and 
— and when we want a little dissipation, we can 
pull up the river and have a picnic or spend a 
day in town and I don’t see why we shouldn’t 
take an excursion by train now and then.” 
Heather gave a little impatient sigh. 

“It is people I want to know. People in 
our own class of life, girls like ourselves, wo- 
men and men.” 

“ We never shall know people here,” said 
Bluebell; “ there are none to know. The doc- 
tor, the rector, and grandmother’s lawyer from 
London' are the only ones we have seen for 
years, and they’re all over sixty! ” 

Suddenly Heather started up, an inspiration 
having come to her; and her soft eyes sparkled 


14 s*. Heather’s Mistress 

as she said : “ What is there to prevent us go- 

ing up to see some of the sights of London? 
We have the money to do it.” 

“ London !:” exclaimed Bluebell, opening her 
eyes at her sister’s audacity. “ Grandmother 
said Paris and London were the most wicked 
cities in the world ! Do you think Abigail 
would let us go? Never! ” 

A pink flush had come into Heather's 
cheeks, but her face fell* at the thought of Abi- 
gail. Then she said recklessly: ‘'If Abigail 

tried to prevent us we could send her away. 
She is only a servant, after all, and we are not 
children. We are of age, and can please our- 
selves ! ” 

Bluebell gave a little gasp. Life without 
Abigail as the controlling power seemed vague 
and impossible. 

“ We are our own mistresses,” said Heather, 
with warmth, but she was stopped by the en- 
trance of Abigail herself. 

She f was a tall, severe-looking woman, the 
personification of neatness and order ; her 
white -cap and apron proclaimed her position, 
otherwise the authority in her voice and de- 
meanor would have led one to suppose she was 
the mistress of the house. 

Miss Heather, is this your wet ulster flung 


Left Alone 


15 


down on the chair? I did not hear you come 


m. 




Heather’s tone was meekness itself as she 
replied: “ Yes, I was so tired that I have been 
resting.” 1 ' ' ' ' 

“ And you have not changed your damp 
boots? ” 

“ No, I am going upstairs to do it now.” 

She slipped out of the room, and Abigail 

* * • » j r f * * • r '44 

taking up the ulster, followed her upstairs to 
the pretty bedroom that both girls shared to- 
gether. 

Everything was very simple, but the white 
dimity curtains and bed-hangings were spotless 
in their freshness. Two small beds, a toilet 
table draped in snowy muslin, a round table 
with devotional books and writing materials 

t * f * * ‘ * » # » » * • V 

upon it, and two old-fashioned wardrobes were 
the chief pieces of furniture in it. The floor 

was covered with an old Brussels carpet, and 

• * • • * •* 
the casement windows, with their deep win- 
dow-seats, were the facsimile of the dining- 
room ones below. ; : 1 ; l 

Abigail came up to her young mistress and 
felt the edge of her skirt. 

You must change your dress at once, miss. 
You are too old to be so careless. It is just the 
way to get a severe cold — coming in and sit- 


Heather’s Mistress 


1 6 

ting down in your damp things and letting 
them dry on you ! ” 

44 Oh, what does it matter," Heather said, a 
little petulantly ; but she obeyed Abigail at 
once, watched her close the shutters and light 
the wax candles, and then detained her just as 
she was leaving the room. 

44 Abigail, you lived with grandmother be- 
fore our father married, did you not? ” 

44 I did,” responded Abigail grimly. 

44 Well, you ought to know. Have we not a 
relation in the world? ” 

Abigail's brows contracted. 

44 Why do you ask, miss? ” 

'‘Oh," said Heather, a little confusedly; 
44 We have only been wondering, that is all.” 

44 None that would improve your manners, 
or edify your souls," the old servant said drily. 
Then after a pause she added: 44 Your grand- 
mother had one niece, but she left the Society 
of the Friends and went into the gay world 
and married a worldling. We heard she had 
one daughter, and later on she died." 

44 Who? The daughter? ” 

“ No, your grandmother’s niece.” 

And what became of the daughter ? She 
would be about our age, would she not? ” 

44 A good ten or twelve years older. We saw 


3 Left Alone 1 7 

her marriage in the paper some years ago. 
She married a soldier, and you know what we 
think of them/’ 

‘‘ I should like to find her out, and know 
her.” 

Abigail looked startled at the quiet determi- 
nation in Heather's tone. 

‘ k Your grandmother would not wish it," she 
said sternly. “ I promised that things should 
go on after her death as they had done in her 
life, and I am ashamed of your wishing other- 

• yy 

wise. 

Heather said nothing. Abigail waited with 

o 

her hand on the door handle for some response. 
Finding there was none forthcoming, she went 
out ; but there was a look of care and perplexity 
on her face as she joined her fellow-servant in 
the kitchen. Rachael was a great contrast to 
Abigail. She was a short stout little woman 
with a cheery face and manner, and though 
Abigail had a real and deep affection for the 
twins, Rachael showed it by terms of endear- 
ment and an outward demonstrativeness that 

> 

was very acceptable to the young girls. 

Bluebell, termed the two women “ Sugar " 
and “ Salt." Perhaps the terms were not in- 
appropriate. 

An hour later, and the two girls sat down to 


1 8 t Heather’s Mistress 


a solemn dinner; one at the head of the long 
dining-table, the other at the foot, and Abigail 
waited upon them in silence. 

Neither of them felt at ease this evening. 
They had a consciousness that Abigail was 
criticising every word and smile, and they were 

9 

longing to be able to talk freely to each other, 
without her taciturn presence. 

When at length she left them, and they were 
finishing their substantial meal with some 
grapes and nuts, they relapsed into easy, and 
perhaps startling confidence. 

It was a delicious sensation to be planning 
out audacious schemes for their future, and 
Heather talked with rapidity and animation of 
the possibility of a wider and fuller life before 
them. 

They left the table at seven, for their dinner 

hour was the old-fashioned one of six. And 

♦ ■ 

they demurely walked into the drawing-room 

i « 

to renew their talk over the fire. 

The drawing-room might have been a pretty 
room. Every article in it was real and good of 
its kind, but for thirty years it had remained 
the same, and the handsome blue damask chairs 
and couches were shrouded in brown Holland 
covers bound with blue braid. The orthodox 
round table with photograph albums and a case 


Left Alone 


l 9 


of carved ivory chessmen upon it, stood in the 
centre of the room. Old china, and valuable 

f I "f f ■ < i : ■ + ' t • ' 1 I I • r t > I • r f - r t f 

paintings hung upon the walls, which were 
adorned with gilt and white paper. The carpet 
and curtains were covered with large bouquets 

> ‘ M I * • [ t ' J • t " T 1 *• *• » i , ■» 

of impossible-looking flowers; but age had 
softened and mellowed their tints. Screens of 
wonderful wool work stood about, depicting 
rosy faced milkmaids and children disporting 
themselves under green trees with baskets of 
fruit; and white crochet antimacassars were 
placed in profusion on all the chairs. The two 
slight girls in their black silk evening dresses 
heavily trimmed with crape, looked sadly out 
of keeping in their gaudy surroundings. 

They laughed and talked in the fire-light as 
only young girls can do, and then as the clock 
struck nine, Abigail wheeled in a small table, 
upon which tea, bread and butter and cake were 
placed. Heather poured out tea, but after they 
had finished it, they took out their books and 
read on in silence till ten o’clock. 

Abigail came in then bearing a large Bible 
and Prayer Book in her hand, and Rachael fol- 
lowed her. 

Bluebell sat up, and in her soft clear voice 
read and prayed. The twins divided their 
honours very evenly. Heather led the morn- 


20 


Heather’s Mistress 


r. 1 


ing devotions, and this they had done for some 
time previous to their grandmother’s death. 

■ ' . ■ i , ) ! i t 1 “ < j ■ _ ' ii ** i. ' I i i t . t •> ' r 

After prayers \vas over Abigail went up to 

their room with them, and brushed and plaited 

their hair, after which the girls performed their 

private devotions in silence, and were soon en- 

joying a sweet and sound slumber in their 
* • • • 
white dimity beds. 


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CHAPTER II 

J [./ . i / 'J 

A RELATION 


/ f 


4C 



Her presence 

ii * • • 

Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls 
of a prison.” — Longfcllozv. 


EATHER, is your religion real to 
you?’’ This startling' question 
was asked by Bluebell the next 
morning, as she was conning over her morning 
chapter in the Bible, before going down to 

a 

breakfast. 

Heather was rolling up her curly hair in 
front of her glass, but her eyes were not on her 
reflected image, but were straying out of the 
window into the sunny meadows below. She 
turned round with a start. The sisters were 
peculiarly reserved about their deepest feelings. 
They never failed in performing their devo- 
tional duties, that had been prescribed and en- 
forced by their Quaker grandmother from their 
earliest childhood. In fact they would as soon 
have thought of omitting to brush their hair as 
to omit their daily Bible reading before break- 
fast. 


2 I 



22 


Heather’s Mistress 


“My religion !” said Heather; "of course 
it is real. I am not a hypocrite! ” 

“ How far does it go? ” 

Bluebell’s merry eyes were soft and grave as 
she put the question. 

“ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ I have just been reading this verse: k Love 
not the world, neither the things that are in the 
world.’ We have been talking so much of see- 
ing more of the world, that I have been won- 
dering if our longing after it is not wrong! ” 

“ I don’t see that it is wrong,” said Heather 
slowly; “as long as we don’t let it take the 
place of God Himself. Knowing it and seeing* 
it is not loving it.” 

“ But it may lead to our loving it! ” 

“ I don’t expect we shall ever have that 
chance,” said Heather carelessly. 

Bluebell gazed at her verse thoughtfully. 

“ I think I want to be real,” she said, “ but 
we have never had our religion tested, 
Heather.” 

1 ' * ' 4 

“ No, that is true. Our lives are so even and 
monotonous. Do you remember our naughty 
days when we were children? How we used 
to escape Abigail’s clutches, and knowing the 
punishment that would follow, how we would 
revel in wickedness till she caught us. We 


A Relation 23 

have steadied down now she would tell us. But 
I don't know. This time of perfect freedom, 
sets all the pulses in me throbbing and tingling* 
for action. And I don't think our religion con- 
demns us to this narrow fettered life. I don't 
believe it is right for us two young girls to be 
shut away from all society and friendship, and 
have no one to talk to but our inferiors. It is 
not right; I feel it is not. I shall pray hard 
that we may be taken out of it." 

Bluebell shut up her Bible, and said no more. 
She danced downstairs with as light a heart as 
if no serious thoughts had ever troubled her. 
She had the old-fashioned urn brought in and 
made the tea, and when Heather came in, she 
chattered away as usual about her plans for the 
day. 

“ I shall do some gardening this morning, 
and now the spring is coming on old Peter must 
come oftener than once a week, Heather. I 
think I had better walk over to the village this 
afternoon. I want to see some of my chil- 
dreii, and I can see him at the same time, 
and tell him to come and bed out some seed- 
lings. 

“ You might take some jelly to Mrs. Wick’s 
little girl. Abigail says she is ill again, poor 
child. Why here is old Ralph coming up the 


24 Heather’s Mistress 

drive. How exciting! Now who can the let- 
ter be from? " 

Bluebell darted out into the hall at once and 
soon returned holding a letter in her hand. 

“ It is addressed to Miss Fotheringay, and 
it is quite a strange hand. Let us open it." 

They read it with their curly heads close 
together, and certainly the contents filled them 
with a dazed kind of wonder. 

“ Park Lane, W. 

“ My dear Cousin, — I am an unknown quantity to 
you. but Mr. Brody, your grandmother's lawyer, has 
been to me and has enlisted my sympathy on your be- 
half. He tells me you and your sister are left all alone’, 
and are young enough to need a chaperon. I feel, as I 
am your second cousin, that I ought to do something 
for you, so propose to come and pay you a little visit. 
If we like each other, we may hit upon some place that 
will be agreeable to all of us. I feel sure that you will 
be able to put me up, so hope to be with you on Friday 
afternoon. I shall leave my maid behind, and come 
quite by myself, so do not make any extra preparations 
for me. Your affectionate cousin, 

“ Ida Carter." 

“ Isn't it extraordinary," said Heather; 
“ that while we were talking about having no 
relations, she should be writing to us ? She must 
be the cousin Abigail told me of yester- 
day. Coming here on Friday. I can’t believe 


A Relation 


25 


“ So our lives are going to widen out at 
once! I like her letter. . How I hope we shall 
like her. And what will Abigail say? " 

They had not much appetite for their break- 
fast. At half-past nine Abigail, Rachael and 
Johnnie, the small boy who cleaned the knives 
and boots and made himself generally useful, 
filed in to prayers. Heather read and prayed 
with an abstracted mind. When it was over 
Abigail began to remove the breakfast things. 
Bluebell stood on the hearthrug with nervously- 
clasped hands. She glanced at Heather who 

• i 1 • - * 

sat down on the arm of a leather chair and as- 
suming a careless attitude, hummed the air of 
an old song. Abigail looked at them both a 
little sharply. 

“ Who has written to you? ” she demanded. 

Heather resolved to show a brave front. 

“ Oh, you saw the postman did you, Abi- 
gail ? We have heard from our cousin, Mrs. 
Carter and she is coming to stay with us next 
Friday. The spare room must be got ready for 
her.” 

Her tone was dignified. Abigail was so 
startled at the news that she forgot her good 
manners, and placing her arms akimbo, ejacu- 
lated, “ Now may the good Lord deliver us 
from the wolf coming down upon the fold! 


26 


Heather’s Mistress 


Give me the letter, Miss Heather, let me see it. 
Who has told her about you, I should like to 
know!” 

For the moment Heather hesitated. She was 
longing to assert her authority, but the habits 
of a lifetime were too strong for her, and she 
meekly put the letter into Abigail’s hand. That 
good woman whipped out her spectacles from 
her capacious pocket, read it and re-read it, and 
then gave a contemptuous sniff. 

“ I should like to give Mr. Brody a piece of 

i r i ,• ' > . ; r 

my mind! ‘Young enough to need — what s 
this word? Chaper — chaperon!’ some French 
nonsense I suppose! You need nothing, and 
will need nothing as long as I am with you ; 
and I will give Mrs. Carter my word for that as 

j 

soon as she enters this house/’ 

Rarely had the girls seen Abigail so moved. 
Bluebell said timidly : 

j 

“ It is very kind of her, Abigail, to think of 
us at all ; we have been longing to know some 
of our relations, and it will be a great pleasure 
to see her/’ 

“ Oh, you poor little creatures! ” 

“ No one but Abigail could have put such 
contemptuous pity in her tone. She took up a 
fpyered dish, and went out of the room, as if 
she were afraid to trust herself further. 


A Relation 


27 

Heather's cheeks were scarlet, and her grey 
eyes flashed angrily. 

“ She treats 11s like babies ! I am thankful 
we shall have some one who, will make her re- 
member her proper place. Since grand- 
mother’s death she has got worse and worse. 
I should like to be free from her! ” 

kk We shall be! ” exclaimed Bluebell dancing 
lightly round the room. kk We shall go to 
London with Mrs. Carter and see the world at 
last." 

“ I wonder if it is an answer to my prayer 
this morning,” said Heather thoughtfully, her 
ire dying away as suddenly as it came. “ I 
have been longing so for something to happen, 
but I never expected the change to come so 
soon." 

. 

“ Miss Heather,” said Abigail entering the 
room again, and speaking in her usually quiet, 
grave tone, “ Rachael is waiting to have the 
stores given out, and there is some of last vear’s 
jam that needs to be freshly covered. Perhaps 
you can do that this morning.” 

Heather seized her housekeeping keys, and 

ran out to the kitchen. 

’ . ■ " * ■' / 

It was a relief to hear Rachael’s view of 

things. 

“ There, my dear Miss Heather, of course 


28 


Heather’s Mistress 


Abigail is a bit upset. The mistress was so 
anxious you should grow up steady, good 
young women, and keep out of all the world’s 
temptations, but, I've been sayin’, the Lord will 
take care of His own. And if this Mrs. Carter 
be what we fears, a giddy worldly woman, well, 
she won't be allowed to harm you, and you 
have a good head on your shoulders, and won't 
let your early training be all brought to naught. 
'Tis dull for you two young girls, as I have 
been sayin’ to Abigail, and any one belongin' 
to one’s own flesh and blood is very welcome. 
We’ll hope for the best, and I think I shall 
walk into town to-morrow and order a few 

7 « J 

necessary additions to the list we made vester- 
day. I'll do the best for my dear departed 
mistress's credit to give the lady good meals 
while she is here, and I’ll have a couple of the 
young spring chickens killed at once! ” 

The next two days were very busy and 
pleasant ones. The garden, the greenhouse, 
every room was looked over, and adorned 
afresh. 

For the first time, the twins began to wonder 
if their country-made black dresses were cor- 
rect in style. They were keenly anxious that 
their visitor should be favourably impressed. 

When Friday came, they wandered up and 


A Relation 29 

" 1 > ' • ‘ ' 0 : ' - ' \ K 1 ; _ . . : - ’ . ' ’ . . 

down the house, longing for, yet dreading her 

advent. Dusk set in before she arrived. They 
went up to the spare bedroom, put flowers on 
the toilet table, lit up the massive silver candle- 
sticks, and looked round with a critical eye. 
It was a gloomy room, but the linen was of the 

• * • • • ! ' / ■ ' J y ■ * 1 ’ , 

finest, the green damask curtains round the 
four-post bed had all been freshly shaken and 
hung, and the bright wood fire that Abigail 
had grudgingly lighted, shed its ruddy light 
over all the dark corners. 

“ I think she will be comfortable/ ’ said Blue- 
bell ; kk Oh, I hope she will like it here/' 

kk I don’t want her to think us incompetent," 
said Heather with a little toss of her head. 

• ■' - • -■ ■ 1 • 'v. > • i . ! 

kk We have never had a guest before, but I shall 
make a point of seeing to her comfort. And 
now will be our time for shaking off Abigail’s 
yoke. I mean to have a good try." 

“ You'll never — never succeed," said Blue- 

1 •• , • - ■ 1 . •. j • 

bell laughing. kk Abigail is too old to become 
different. Oh, Heather, listen! There are 

• 1 ' V I 

wheels! I feel quite shy, shall we go down? ’ 
They reached the hall, and in another mo- 
ment were face to face with their guest. Abi- 
gail stood in the background, and felt that her 

t 

worst fears were realized. 

Mrs. Carter was a pretty vivacious little 


3 ° 


Heather's Mistress 


woman. She was clad in a scarlet jacket trim- 
med with astrakan, a toque with scarlet wings 
was set jauntily over a quantity of dark frizzy 

hair, her dress was silk lined, and covered with 

* * , 

costly trimming, and the atmosphere of scent 
and perfumes was about her. 

She looked at the two gihlish figures in their 
unbecoming dresses of black silks and crape; 
then embraced them warmly. 

‘‘ So delighted to make your acquaintance, 
dears. What an out-of-the-way place this is ! 
Four miles from a railway station, and not a 
house did we pass during the drive. I’m afraid 
I should die of the dumps if I lived here.” 

“ Will you come up to your room now?” 
asked Heather feeling quite bewildered at such 
an apparition in their Quaker household. 

\ f * . . 

“ If you like, or shall I come into the draw- 
ing-room first — I am longing for a cup of tea.” 
“ We shall be dining in half an hour,” said 
Heather, with an uneasy glance at Abigail, 
“ but if you would like a cup of tea, I will send 

r • , 

it up to you.” 

“ Thank you. I think I should. I had a 
very early lunch. How like you two girls are 
to each other ! I shall never know the differ- 
ence between you. Come along both of you 
and show me my room.” 


A Relation i 


3 1 

She rustled up the stairs, Heather leading 
the way, and she sank into the easy chair by her 
fire with a little sigh of content. 

Looking at the two girls in front of her, she 
said : 

“ Now tell me your names. I do not even 
know those, and yet I am a cousin/’ 

“ Our baptismal names are Drusilla and 
Priscilla,” said Bluebell quickly, “ but our 
mother could not bear them. She was Scotch, 
and did not belong to the Friends. So she 
called us Heather and Bluebell, and even grand- 
mother got to call us so too. We try and for- 
get that we were called anything else! ” 

“ Very wise of you,” laughed Mrs. Carter. 
‘‘ And now may I ask what time you dine? 
Surely not yet? ” 

“ At six o’clock,” Heather replied. 

Mrs. Carter raised her eyebrows, but said 
nothing, and at this moment a knock was heard 
at the door. 

Heather looked round, and saw Abigail with 
a face like thunder. 

“ Have you brought Mrs. Carter a cup of 
tea?” she asked lifting her little head up 
proudly. She felt sure that Abigail was deter- 
mined to prevent any confidences being ex- 
changed between them and their cousin, and 


3 2 


Heather’s Mistress 


» 


she resented it accordingly. Abigail looked at 
her charges with a glance that made them quail 
beneath it. - : // 

“ You will please to go downstairs, young 
ladies," she said sternly, “ and I will attend 
upon the lady myself. I have something to say 
to her.” 

Mrs. Carter looked up quickly, and was 
about to speak, but checked herself. She nod- 
ded brightly to the girls as she saw them slip- 
ping from the room. 

“ I shall see you downstairs presently, ” she 
called out after them. And then she turned to 
Abigail — “ I was not going to trouble you,” 
she said very sweetly, “ but since you have 
offered to attend upon me, perhaps you will 
unlace my boots for me. I miss my maid when 
I am away from herd’ 

This was more than Abigail was prepared 
for, but she went down on her knees at once, 
and Mrs. Carter continued pleasantly, “ I want 
to have a good talk with you soon about your 
young ladies, but I am tired to-night, so we 
will put off our chat till to-morrow.” 

Abigail struggled on her knees with a re- 
fractory lace, felt herself at a disadvantage. 
She said nothing till her task was done, then 
she rose to her feet. 


A Relation 


33 


“ I would like to give you a word of caution 
Mem/' she said grimly, “ I have been in this 
family for years, before you were born. I 
knew your mother when she was a slip of a girl, 
and my late mistress has given me a trust that 
I will be faithful to, cost me what it may. The 
young ladies have been brought up apart from, 
the world, and into it they shall not go with 
my consent. I promised her I would look after 
them as long as I lived. She did not wish me 
to communicate with you, or [ would have done 
so. You never came near her as long as she 
lived, and there is no need now to come putting 
foolish and sinful ideas into the poor children’s 
heads. Perhaps you do not know that my 
mistress wished them to live on here with 
me ; 

Mrs. Carter leant back in her chair and 
smiled. “ Yes, I do know it, and Mr. Brody 
is their °*uardian, and I am sure you have their 
best interests at heart. Now do not let me 
keep you any longer. Perhaps you will kindly 
unstrap my trunk before you go. I hank you. 
We will have our chat to-morrow. " 

Abigail went downstairs shaking her head 
solemnly. She felt she had nret her match, and 
difficult times were ahead for them all. 




. 4 . » it l .J l ) >4 1 J y) 

\ . 

, , j \ *■' i ; , ( • j ; > i < J // i 

CHAPTER III 

IN AN OLD-FASHIONED HOUSEHOLD 

“ Home-keeping hearts are happiest, 

For those that wander they know not where 
Are full of trouble and full of care — 

To stay at home is best.” — Longfellozv. 

) | 

H EATHER’S cheeks were scarlet with 
mortified shame, when she and her 
sister were turned out of their cous- 
in’s room by Abigail. 

“ She — she almost makes me hate her,” she 
said in a vehement whisper; “but I am sure 
Mrs. Carter will not stand much from her. I 
know it is wrong, but I hope she will be well 
snubbed, and I shall enjoy seeing it! ” 

Bluebell took the matter lightly. She was a 
happy-hearted girl with an affectionate, sun- 
shiny disposition, and viewed life at present 
through rose-coloured spectacles. She had also 
a keen sense of humour, and she laughed now 
at the remembrance of Abigail’s face when 
Heather enquired for the cup of tea. 

“ Never mind,” she said, “ we must not ex- 

34 



In an Old-Fashioned Household 35 

pect Abigail to be different now from what she 
always is. She is too old to change. Did you 
see what a lot of luggage Mrs. Carter has 
brought? I think she is lovely, don't you?" 

“ Yes,’ 1 assented Heather warmly. “ I have 
never seen any one like her. Now let us come 
into the drawing-room. I wish Abigail would 
ha.ve taken off the holland covers. I can’t bear 
them.” 

Mrs. Carter did not make her appearance 
till dinner was on the table. In fact she was 
ten minutes behind time, and came down in a 
black satin dress with low neck and short 
sleeves, apologizing very prettily for keeping 
them waiting. The girls were too well bred to 
show their feelings, but cast many a shy admir- 
ing glance at her, through their long lashes. 
The pearls round her neck, the glittering brace- 
lets on her white arms and sparkling rings 
upon her fingers, all appealed to their love of 
beauty. 

She talked and chatted with them on the 
most trivial subjects through the meal. Abigail 
moved to and fro with a grim face, and an 
aching heart. When she had finally left the 
room Mrs. Carter came to more personal mat- 
ters. 

“ Have you girls ever been to school ? ” 


Heather’s Mistress 


3 6 

“ Noi” 

“ Then who has educated you?” 

“ Grandmother.” 

“ I always heard her spoken of as a very 

. f f 

clever and cultivated woman/’ Mrs. Carter said 
slowly. “ I wonder what she taught you? ” 
“Everything,” said Bluebell rashly. “We 

4 I > 

used to work five hours every day, often 
six.” • 

“ Do you know anything of Algebra, Latin 
or Mathematics?” 

Bluebell’s face fell. 

“ No.” 

“ How many languages can you speak? ” 

“ We know French fairly well, a little Ger- 
man and Italian.” 

* f 

“ Can you sing and play? ” 

“ Heather can play the harp. And I can sing 
a little. I am not very fond of music.” 

“ Grandmother used to say,” said Heather 
thoughtfully, “ that a woman should be thor- 
oughly grounded in history and geography, she 
* • 

should have plenty of general knowledge so 
that she could always be at ease in literarv so- 
ciety and conversation; a little music was es- 
sential, but the main duties in her life would 
be housekeeping; and this I think Bluebell and 
I know to our finger ends.” 


In an Old-Fashioned Household 37 

“ Tell me what you can do,” said Mrs. Car- 
ter, looking kindly at them. 

“We will tell you what we do do,” said Blue- 
bell, vivaciously. “ Heather keeps the ac- 
counts, she is better at it than I am. She also 
looks after a small farm that belongs to us. We 
get our butter and milk from it, and every week 
the farmer comes up and does business with 
her in the study. He says she k do have a wun- 
nerful head.' She also has charge of the store 
cupboard, and orders dinner every day. I make 
all the jam, and potted meat, and pickles, and 
everything of that sort, and we have a tiny 
dispensary with simple remedies for the village 
people, which is my province. The linen cup- 
board is in my charge too, and I look after it 
all and mend it. Sometimes we make jellies 
and broth for the sick people in the village. 
Grandmother would have us both learn cook- 
ing. She said a woman ought to know it thor- 
oughly, and we can do most things, can't we, 
Heather ? ” 

Heather assented, adding, “ You see we are 
a small household, but the villagers look to us 
for everything. They come up once a week 
• during the winter for soup, and there are al- 
ways some old and sick who want special at- 
tention/’ 


Heather’s Mistress 


38 


k ‘ I dare say your grandmother was more 
sensible than most people of the present day,” 
said Mrs. Carter. “ I do not hold with this col- 
lege education for women, but times have 
changed. It is not every girl who is placed in 
such comfortable circumstances as you are. 
Now I should like to know if you are all Quak- 
ers here ? ” 

“No, we have never been brought up so,” 
said Heather. “ There are no Friends about 
here. Abigail and Rachael used to attend a 
little meeting in the town, but it is too far for 
them to walk, and they generally go to chapel. 
Grandmother never left the house for seven 
years before she died. Bluebell and I walk 
over to church, which is two miles away. Mr. 
Monk is the rector. He is very old and very 
poor, and we don't see much of him. He comes 
to us when he wants any special relief for 
a parishioner.” 

“ Have you no friends? Surely this is not 
the only big house in the neighbourhood? ’ 

“ Our squire lives eight miles off. We don't 
know him. Grandmother never visited. Our 
doctor is an old bachelor, and he lives six miles 
away. We never met any one in our own 
station of life.” 

. “ What a life!” 


In an Old-Fashioned Household 39 

After this ejaculation Mrs. Carter seemed 
lost in thought, and then they moved into the 
drawing-room. She made Heather play to her, 
and when she was seated at the harp, and Blue- 
bell leant back in a low chair by the fire to 
listen, Mrs. Carter looked at her young cousins 
with greater interest than ever. Heather played 
some old Scotch airs, and then drifted into “ II 
Trovatore." Her touch was light and sweet, 
and Mrs. Carter was charmed with the grace 
and spirit with which she played. 

“ I feel / 1 she said, when Heather had come 
to the fire and taken a seat opposite hers, “ that 
I am in a dream. I have gone back a genera- 
tion. Do you know that you are utterly un- 
like most girls of your own age? " 

“ We have never seen any," said Heather, 
simply; “ at least only the- farmer’s daughters, 
and the villagers." 

“ Did your grandmother expect you would 
live and die here in seclusion? ’’ 

“ We thought, till your letter came, that we 
should have to do it,” said Bluebell. Then she 
added, with a laughing light in her eyes : 
“ Heather was meditating a bold stroke for 
freedom; may we tell you about it? You 
won’t be shocked? " 

“I do not think you two little Puritans will 


Heather’s Mistress 



I 

♦ 

t 

be likely to shock me,” was the amused reply. 
“ Tell me, by all means.” 

m' 

Then Heather spoke, in hushed tones, with a 
backward glance at the door, for fear of Abi- 
gail’s form appearing. 

“ It is Abigail. She rules us with a rod of 
iron. You saw how she sent us from your 
room before dinner. She has been worse than 
ever since grandmother died. She treats us like 
tiny children. And Bluebell and I are children 
no longer. We are mistresses here, we have 
our own money. Grandmother left everything 
to us. 1 know all about it, for I have been over 
it with Mr. Brody. We have quite enough 
money to live very comfortably, and — and to 
travel.” 


" Yes,” put in Bluebell, “ and we were going- 
up to London by ourselves. We had hardly 
settled whether we should dismiss Abigail 
from our service, or run away without telling 
her. Of course she would never have allowed 
us to go to London ; we knew that. It would 
have been more dignified to send her away, but 
it would have taken a lot of courage to 
do it, and she is — well — very awe inspir- 

»ng” 

“ I think we should have been driven to do 
it,” said Heather. “ 1 could not have run away 


In an Old-Fashioned Household 41 

from our own home like a coward; and I have 

j ♦ 9 

felt lately things were getting desperate. You 
have come and solved the difficulty. It will be 
all right now.” 

“ By that you mean I am to do battle on your 
behalf? Well, we will see.” 

When tea was brought in by Abigail, she 
saw the new-comer on the best of terms with 
the two girls, who, with flushed cheeks and 
bright eyes, were listening to some of her Lon- 
don experiences. Abigail went out to Rachael, . 
and in tones of despair exclaimed: 

“ She has bewitched them with her airs and 
graces. They didn’t even so much as even look 
at me when I went in ! They’re drinking in 
the poison, and it will be the ruin of their young 
lives. And I have to stand by and say 
nothin’ ! ” 

. • » 

She wrung her hands, and Rachael looked 
aghast at the imperturbable Abigail being so 
deeply moved. 

“We must trust them to the Lord,” she said, 
soothingly. “Maybe Mrs. Carter is only young 
and giddy. She will find this a dull place to 
linger in. She will come and go, and when 
once in London will forget all about them 
again. Don't you fret now, don’t, for mercy’s 
sake ! ” 


42 


Heather’s Mistress 




Abigail shook her head, but said no more. 
She would not tell Rachael her worst fears. 

Prayer time came, and Bluebell very simply 
asked Mrs. Carter to lead the devotions. She 
laughed and declined, but watched her young 
cousin sit up and conduct them with an amused 
and yet softened look in her eyes. 

kk And now you are going to bed,” she said 
afterwards. “ Well, I will too; it is not much 
beauty sleep that I get in town ! ” 

But when she was up in her bedroom, she 
did not retire to rest. Drawing up the writing 
table to her fire, she wrote a long letter to her 
husband. And this was what she wrote : — 

“ Dearest old Hal, — I think I have tumbled into one 
of the quaintest and out-of-the-world households in ex- 
istence. I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure 
that I am not dreaming. How I wish you were here to 
enjoy it with me! For enjoying it I am, and that most 
thoroughly. Where shall I begin? With the house 
itself, I think. It is one of those thoroughly comfortable 
old-fashioned residences, with thick walls, and pic- 
turesque corners and gables. Casement windows and 
deep window-seats ; plenty of good old oak about it. I 
could make it simply sweet, but. oh. my dear boy! I 
think even your inartistic soul would stand aghast at 
the colours and style of the decorations within ! I have 
been sitting in the drawing-room, and inwardly shud- 
dering all the time at my surroundings. I should think 
it was furnished sixty or seventy years ago, in the most 
hideous fashion of our grandmothers, and has never 


In an Old-Fashioned Household 43 

been touched since — all gilt and white with the crudest 
colours all bunched together, a large long room with 
four windows. Not a plant or flower in it. Chairs and 
sofas in brown holland. Fancy worsted-work screens, 
and glass cases of flowers, stuffed birds, and fruit. Well, 
you’re a man; and I can’t write to you as I should to a 
woman, so I will stop. Every room is the same. And 
yet, with it all, it is thoroughly comfortable, though so 
inharmonious. I have not seen the grounds, but I be- 
lieve the garden is not a large one. There are dense 
shrubberies in* all directions. The household goes by 
clock-work. You never saw such odd characters as the 
two Quaker servants. They and a small boy, do all the 
work of the house between them. How they manage it 
I don’t know, for I can give them credit for keeping 
everything in the most beautiful order. The linen and 
plate are the very best — exquisite in fact — but I always 
heard that Quakers were noted for those two items in 
their households. 

“ And now I come to the girls. I wonder what you 
will think of them. I foresee a bright future for them 
after a little training. Of course, they are in the most 
hideous garbs imaginable, but it says much for their 
natural grace that they draw attention to themselves, and 
not to their dress. They hold themselves well, and are, 
as far as I have seen them yet, without a trace of self- 
consciousness. Perfectly simple and natural, but oh, so 
undeveloped ! And yet, sometimes, when I say to my- 
self what babies they are, they will startle me with some 
words of wisdom or depth of feeling that I feel I don’t 
possess myself ! They are tall, slim maidens, with the 
most lovely eyes and hair, and delicate features and 
complexions, as like as two peas. I don't yet know them 
apart. They are guarded by a regular dragon, whom I 
am longing to fight and subdue. She sees in me every- 
thing that is evil, and is fiercely determined that I shall 


44 Heather’s Mistress 

not carry off her nurselings. -I don't yet know what I 
shall do with them, but they are too pretty to waste their 
sweetness on the desert air. Tell me what you advise. 
Can’t you run down from Saturday to Monday? Don’t 
get into mischief while your ‘ missis ’ is away, and tell 
Cyril that if I find the slightest whiff of tobacco in my 
drawing-room when I return he shall receive his conge 
immediately. Don’t go to too many theatres, and re- 
member I may be home any day, so will catch you out 
before you know it! Your loving 

“Ida" 

“ P. S. — Imagine no afternoon tea, dinner at six 
o’clock, and an old-fashioned tea-table with buttered 
toast and cakes wheeled into the drawing-room at nine 
o'clock! Prayers at ten, and then to bed; and if you 
could have seen the sweet gravity with which one of 
these children conducted our devotions, and the calm air 
with which she handed me a huge Bible, I think you 
would have longed to be good as I did! ” 

v r j •», fj-M 

The next morning Mrs. Carter begged to be 
shown over the house, and whilst Heather was 
attending to her housekeeping. Bluebell took 
her round. The study which had been the girls’ 
nursery and schoolroom in former years, was 
rather a gloomy looking room, but opened into 
a small greenhouse, in which was a large cage 
of canaries filling the air with their songs. 
Bluebell's plants and flowers looked flourish- 
ing; she was a born gardener, and knew how 
to pot, plant, and graft to perfection. She took 
her cousin out into the garden, which had a 


In an Old-Fashioned Household 45 

1 • 1 ’ , * . r 

long stretch of green turf edged with old elm 
trees. A few flower beds, and a very small 

f y 

kitchen garden was beyond. 

‘ “ We get most of our vegetables from the 
farm. Heather will take you over to see that. 
We sometimes go there and make the butter. 
When Annie was ill — she is the farmer’s wife; 
she used to help in the house, and married our 
gardener who is now the farmer — when she 
was ill, after her last baby was born, Heather 
and I went down and made the butter every 
day ! ” 

“ You are most industrious young people. I 
shall be quite afraid of you. I am sure you 
never do anything wrong, now do you? ” 
Bluebell’s laugh rang out merrily. 

“ Abigail would tell you how many scoldings 
we get in a day! But do you know,” and the 
girl’s eyes were almost serious as she turned 
them upon her cousin ; “ since we have been our 
own mistresses, we don’t seem to have got into 
half so many scrapes. In fact when we are left 
to do exactly as we like, we find that there is no 
temptation to do what we ought not to do.” 

“ The moral is that you should be always 
left to yourselves, isn’t it? I am afraid you will 
not be willing to hand yourselves over to my 
keeping for a little, will you? ” 


Heather’s Mistress 


46 

Bluebell looked up eagerly. 

9 

“ Are you going to offer to take us away 
with you? ” 

I haven't said so. We must talk over it 


u 


with your sister. 


?> 


.1 1 


1 A *j(ij 


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07 id // .olMit r> to! yni ’Ood 




CHAPTER IV 

. 

f • r , 

A STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM 

“ The soul, emancipated, unoppressed, 

Free to prove all things, and hold fast the best, 
Learns much.’' — Cowper. 

• » 

M RS. CARTER seemed to adapt herself 
with the greatest ease, to the quiet 
routine of her young cousins’ home. 
She was always bright and pleasant, always 
ready for a chat with anyone, from Rachael to 
little Johnnie and any of the villagers who 
came in her way. Abigail alone stoutly re- 
sisted her charms ; and Abigail she had resolved 
to conquer by charms, or sheer strength of will. 

She came down one morning braced for the 
conflict, looking in her fresh tailor-made shirt 
and skirt, a dainty little person. Captain Car- 
ter had declined to come to her help, and she 
was longing to be back in town with him again. 

It was a lovely spring morning. As she 
looked across at her little black robed cousins 
she said : “ I long to put you two girls into 
fresh spring frocks. Don’t look so shocked. I 


Heather’s Mistress 


4 s 

don't mean you should leave off your mourn- 
ing, but you might have lost two parents from 
the depth of your crape! ” 

“ Grandmother acted as a parent," said 
Heather quietly, 

“ Yes, dear, I know, but such deep mourning 
is out of date. It is only a matter of custom. 

■ - ’ - r ' •. •. •; 

It does those who are gone no mortal good, 
and is only a burden to the wearers. Now I 
want to talk to you both very seriously. 1 must 
be going home in a few days. Would you 
like to come with me and see some of the sights 

of London? Of course we shall be very quiet. 

« 

Your recent loss would be quite sufficient ex- 
cuse to prevent your going out much. But we 
could do a good deal in a quiet way, and I am 
sure the change of air and scene would do you 
both a great deal of good.” 

“ We should like to," said Heather thought- 
fully ; “ but Abigail is so dreadfully set against 
it, that she would never agree to it! " 

“ You told me a little time ago, you would 
give her notice to leave if she interfered with 
us,” said Bluebell mischievously. 

“ I know I did, but that was when the pos- 
sibility of doing it seemed vague and uncer- 
tain.” 

“ Well," said Mrs. Carter a little impatiently, 


49 


A Struggle tor Freedom 

t 

“ I cannot force you to come against your wills, 
but if you would like to come, I will manage 
Abigail.” 

“ I don't know who would take up the — the 
things we do," said Heather. “ The villagers 
will miss us going in and out, and we help a 
good deal in the house." 

“ My dear child, I am only asking for a short 
visit. Abigail could be quite well left in charge, 
until you. returned. I am not asking you to give 
up your home altogether.” 

” Of course we must come,” said Bluebell 
impetuously. “ It will be our first chance of 
seeing more of life, which Heather is always 
longing for. Abigail is the stumbling block. 
If you will manage her, we will come l grate- 
fuly and gladly, won't we, Heather?" And 
Heather assented a little doubtfully, but in ac- 
cents of relief at her sister’s taking the decision 
into her hands. 

Mrs. Carter waited till the afternoon to 
broach the subject to Abigail. She sent the 
girls out for a walk, and when they were well 
out of the way, she asked Abigail to come and 
have a little chat with her. 

She was sitting in the drawing-room, and 
Abigail entered with compressed lips and low- 
ering brows. She had a presentment of what 


5 ° 


Heather’s Mistress 


: -V 


was coming, and if Mrs. Carter had braced 
herself for the interview, so had she. 

“ Won't you sit down, Abigail? We shall 
not be interrupted, for I don't suppose you have 
one visitor in a twelvemonth here, do you ? ' 

“ I suppose we might have a good many, if 
we opened the doors to all who asked them- 
selves without invitation," was the grim reply. 

“ It is only a cousin's privilege to do that,” 
responded Mrs. Carter gaily. “ Now we won’t 
fence round the bush, but I will come at once to 
the point. I have asked your young ladies to 
come and pay me a visit, and they are coming 
to London with me the beginning of next 
week.” 

“ That they are not," was the stern reply, 

I *1 « 

“ and you’ll excuse me for contradicting you 
Mem. I’ve nursed those children since their 
birth, and being their rightful guardian now, 
I shall have my say in the matter." 

“ Now look here Abigail, listen to me. I ad- 
mire your faithfulness and mistaken ideas of 
duty, but if you are as sensible a woman as I 
take you to be, you must know in your heart, 
that the present state of things here cannot last. 
Miss Heather and Miss Bluebell are young, but 
they are of age. Their grandmother left them 
her money without any restrictions; and they 


A Struggle for Freedom 51 

have a perfect right to make their plans as they 
think best. Do you imagine that they could be 
kept in this isolated fashion for much longer? 
Did their grandmother wish to make nuns of 
them? If so, she might as well have sent them 
off to a convent at once. What do you think 
will happen to them when you and Rachael are 
taken from them? You are neither of you very 
young persons, and in all human probability 
they will outlive, you many years. Then two 
young girls would be left friendless and un- 
protected, too innocent of the world and its 
ways, to be able to defend themselves from any 
dangers that might beset them/' 

“ Nothing will make me consent to them go- 
ing away with you, if you please, Mem. No 
amount of smooth spoken words will make me 
do it. Perhaps I may have my say. My late 
mistress has trained the young ladies in the 
way that they should go, and I have helped 
her to do it. They are trained for Heaven, and 
not for the pomps and vanities of this wicked 
world. They are leading happy, useful lives 
here, and until you came to instil sinful desires 
in their innocent minds, had no wish to do oth- 
erwise. My late mistress did not wish them to 
be acquainted with you at all. We have often 
talked it over together. Your husband is a 


5 2 


Heather’s Mistress 


soldier, that alone prejudiced her against you. 
You live a butterfly existence, your dress is 
such that no decent woman would wear. The 
young ladies have never been accustomed to see 
bare necks and arms of an evening, and such 
an amount of jewelry and flash! You wish 
to make them. like vourself, to rob them of their 
piety, their innocence, and their maidenly mod- 
esty. You would take them to dances, to 
theatres, to all sorts of worldly pleasures, you 
would deck them in flowers and colored silks 
and satins, you would have them spend their 
substance in riotous living. I know the ways 
of London, and I tell Mem I would rather see • 
them in their graves, than taken away to be 
under your roof and influence.” 

Abigail paused for breath. 

Mrs. Carter looked as placid and smiling as 
ever. “ I think you misunderstand me, Abi- 
gail. I am not going to take them away from 
you altogether. They have a sweet old home 
here, and have no intention of leaving it. But 
they tell me they have never slept a night away 
for the last three years. It is extremely bad for 
them. Change of air is necessary to us all, 
especially after the sad time they have lately 
gone through. I think you are letting your 
prejudice run away with your sound common- 


53 


A Struggle for Freedom 

sense. You are afraid I am going to steal your 
chicks from you, and so in the soreness of your 
heart, you give me the credit of all that is bad, 
and paint me as black as you can. I promise 
you that their religion shall not suffer whilst 
with me. I go to church twice every Sunday, 
and once in the week all through Lent. I have 
only asked them for a month, and have told 
them that their deep mourning alone prevents 
them from taking part in any of the gaieties. 
London is very quiet now and will be until after 
Easter. You will have thefn back with you 
then ; more than ever in love with their sweet 
• country home after all the dust and glare of 
London streets.’’ 

“ They shall never go with you,” repeated 
Abigail with determined lips. “ Never shall 
they leave me while I have health and strength 
to prevent it. You talk of your religion, Mem, 
but it must be the religion of the Pharisees of 
old, a whitened sepulchre outside, and inside 
dead bones! Haven't I seen you stifling a 
yawn when we are in the midst of our morning 
devotions? Have you any real love for the 
Word of Life and for the God who gave it to 
us ? Ay, you may go to church and think that 
church-going covers a multitude of sins. You 
may bend your head in worship, when your 


54 Heather’s Mistress 

heart is full of disobedience and rebellion 
against your Maker. Do you live for His 
Glory alone, Mem? Do you know what it is 
to deny yourself, take up your cross daily and 
follow the Master who was despised and re- 
jected of men? If the summons came to you 
to-day — ‘This night thy soul shall be required 
of thee ’ — would you be ready to meet the 
judge of all the earth? Folks talk about their 
religion ! Religion as you understand it won’t 
redeem your soul from destruction, won’t blot 
out the sins and- follies of a life-time. It lulls 
your immortal soul to sleep, and gives you a 
false peace that will prove your ruin ! ” 

“ Come, come, Abigail, I did not call you in 
here to preach to me. It is beside the question 
altogether. If you will not see things in a 
reasonable light, I will not reason with you no 
longer. The young ladies are coming home 
with me next week. There is nothing more to 
be said." 

“ And how will you send them back to me? ” 
said Abigail in the bitterness of her soul. 
“ Having given them a taste of sinful pleasures 
and drawn them into your net, do you think 
they’ll come back as fresh and innocent as when 
they went ? ’’ 

“ They may come back engaged to be mar- 


55 


f A Struggle for Freedom 

ried,” said Mrs. Carter exasperatingly calm in 
tone. “ I am going to try and get them good 
husbands. That is the best thing that could 
happen to them.” 

Abigail turned her back upon the speaker 
and walked straight out of the room. With 
clenched hands she went upstairs to her bed- 
room, and there locking the door, she went 
down on her knees by her bedside in agony of 
supplication. 

“ Oh, God Almighty,” she gasped, “ I am 
weak and helpless by the side of this sinful 
woman. Thou knowest how I have prayed for 
these children. 1 have hoped they were in Thy 
fold. All things are possible to Thee! Frus- 
trate the design of the evil one. Give them the 
desire to stay at home and the strength to re- 
sist her persuasions. It is the thin edge of the 
wedge, Lord. Oh, help me in this hour of 
need. Do Thou send deliverance. All things 
are possible to Thee.” 

Her honest, rugged face was quivering with 
emotion. She rose from her knees more hope- 
ful. Surely her influence was not at an end 
with the girls ! She would appeal to them, and 
as soon as they came back from their walk she 
would speak to them alone. 

Mrs. Carter did not feel very comfortable 


Heather’s Mistr ss 


5 6 

after Abigail’s departure; she got up and paced 
the room, her pretty brows contracted with 
thought. Was it true that her religion was 

t 

merely an empty form? Abigail's words stung 
deeply, and she began to feel a little hesitation 
in taking away the girls. Then she laughed 

aloud : kk She is an ignorant, narrow-minded 

» * 

woman, and though I respect her motives, it is 
ridiculous and absurd to suppose that my in- 
fluence will do the girls any harm/’ 

She met the twins at the hall door, when they 
returned. 

kk Abigail and I have fought it out,” she said 
laughingly. kk She is sure to speak to you, but 
say as little as possible, and it will be all right.” 
The girls looked at each other ; then ran up 
to their room to take their hats off. 

kk 1 hope Abigail won't make a great fuss,” 
said Heather; “but I feel I don’t care if she 
does." 

kk No, we shall soon get away from her. She 
has really no power to prevent us going.” 

A knock at the door made them look at each 
other in dismay. 

“Here she is, now for it!” said Bluebell, 
adding in a louder voice, kk Come in.” 

Abigail appeared with a white and rigid 
face. Heather turned to her looking glass, and 


57 


A Struggle for Freedom 

began to hum a tune as she arranged the front 
of her hair. Her heart was beating violently, 
but she controlled her voice as she said care- 
lessly: “ Do you want anything, Abigail ?” 
For a moment Abigail did not speak. Then 
she turned to the door and locked it behind her, 
standing like a sentinel in front of it. 

“ It is well to prevent interruption/' she said 
drily; “ for I have a few words to say to you 
both, and I wish to have time to say them." 

“ Now, Abigail, don’t be cross," said Blue- 
bell, plunging into the matter at once. “ We 
know what you’re going to sav, but our minds 
are quite made up, arid nothing you can say will 
alter our arrangements.” 

“ And may I ask, Miss Bluebell, if the wishes 
of one who has nursed you from babyhood, 
and has your best welfare at heart, are to count 
for nothing? Is an irreligious and flighty 
stranger by her flatteries and temptations to 
beguile you from your home and your God ? 
Are you and Miss Heather so weak and foolish 
as to believe all her deceiving words, and go 
astray like silly sheep from the true fold I was 
trusting you were in ? ” 

Then Heather faced round with flushed 
cheeks and earnest eyes. 

“ One would think we were going to do a 


Heather’s Mistress 


58 

dreadfully wicked thing from the way you talk, 
Abigail. We are going to London on a visit: 
our mother did the same thing when she was 
young, and so did grandmother, she told 11s 
so. You have no right to say we shall be act- 
ing wrongly.” 

“ ’Tis the company your going with, and the 
company you'll meet with, you silly child, that 
is the sin. How can you serve God in such a 
worldly house as you'll be going to? It's 
enough to raise your grandmother's ghost ! 
After all she has done and said to make you 
grow up into good and virtuous young women. 
How can you go down on your knees and ask 
God’s blessing on such an enterprise? You’re 
just a couple of silly moths fluttering round the 
light, and it will be your destruction in the 
end.” * i 

Abigail’s vehement earnestness had the ef- 
fect she desired on her charges. They looked' 
at each other with troubled eyes. She contin- 
ued in tones of entreaty : 

“ Now, be good children/ and be advised by 
me. I would cut off my right hand to prevent 
you going! I know the wickedness of the 
world, and you do not. If you are tired of this 
place, you can go for a change to the sea-side 
with me. The summer will be coming on. I 


A Struggle for Freedom 59 

will do all in my power to give you change and 
brightness. If you go with Mrs. Carter your 
happiness and peace in religion will depart 
from you. ‘ No man can serve two masters. 
You cannot serve God and Mammon! 

“ But we mean to serve God in London/’ 
said Heather in hesitating tones. “ There must 
be some good people there. We shall not do 
anything that grandmother would not like us 
to do.” 

Then Abigail took a false step. Seeing the 
girls were already wavering, she thought she 
would clinch their decision. 

“I forbid you to go!” she cried. “You 
were left in my charge, and I shall prevent it. 
Mrs. Carter shall go back alone, and I'll lock 
you in your rooms rather than you should go 
with her. You know how determined I can be, 
and if fair words shall not move you, force will. 
You can plan and plot as you like, but never as 
long as I’m alive shall I let you go with her.” 

If only Abigail had known how fatal these 
words were to her cause, she would have bitten 
her tongue out rather than uttered them. 

Heather’s eyes flashed fire at once. 

“ I think you forget, Abigail, your position. 
Bluebell and I have a perfect right to make 
what plans we choose without consulting you 


Heather’s Mistress 


60 

\ 

t r * 

in the least. And — and we mean to in future. 
We have arranged to go to London with 
Cousin Ida, and go we shall, and if you make 
any more fuss about it I shall give you notice 
to leave us ! ” * f 

Abigail was perfectly speechless. Never had 

she dreamt of such utter indifference to her 

$ . » / * 

authority. She could hardly believe it was 
Heather speaking. This was turning the tables 
upon her with a vengeance ! 

“ You poor, misguided young creatures!” 
she exclaimed, and the real love for them at the 
bottom of her heart seemed to come uppermost 
at once. With a little choke in her throat she 
unlocked the door and went out without an- 
other word. And Heather, white and trem- 
bling at the thought of her audacity, sank down 
on a chair and burst into a flood of tears. 

Bluebell put her arms round her and cried 
too. “ We have done it, we have done it ! 
she said. “ And now we must go straight on, 

r * i • - t % 

and never look back! ” 

“ I wish,” sobbed inconsistent Heather, 
“ that ousin Tda had never found us out. I am 
sure we shall come to a bad end ! We are going 
against grandmother and Abigail, and God 
won’t give us His blessing! ” 

And so it was with tears and misgivings 
that the twins gained their independence. 


blft . ; r.-j • i : T;' .. ' - : ' : . ' 

A Li . ! • ‘ ; 

CHAPTER V 

{)in •; i vr } :i •< » ;*{ >v » )<■ ui r '• . o; ■ ... 

IN PARK LANE 

/y ‘ \ f M / *. f? r ! j ; , • i ! * i ’ ' ' } * ’ 1 ! 

“ This world is not yorthy of your soul, 

Give it not a good-day, when it cometh into com- 
petition with it.” — Rutherford. 

.11; . * ■ f r.j ] ‘ >• 1 ; \ / ", . . j 

T HE fly from the neighboring town was 
at the door. Rachael and Johnnie were 
assisting with the luggage. Abigail was 
nowhere to be seen. Heather and Bluebell look- 
ed dazed and uncomfortable, but the future 
had still its attractions for them. They had 
been into the kitchen early that morning to 
get a little comfort from Rachael. 

“ Do say you don't think us wicked, Ra- 
chael ! ” pleaded Heather, “it is so dreadful 
leaving home when Abigail is so angry. She 
has hardly spoken to us for the last three or 
four days.” 

“ Bless you both," exclaimed warm-hearted 
Rachael. “ Pm trusting to the good Lord to 
take care of you, as I keep telling Abigail. 
She's not angry with you, but sore grieved 
about it. We learn wisdom by our mistakes 

6i 


Heather’s Mistress 


62 

\ 

sometimes. Ask the Lord’s guidance, and He 
will give it to you, and if you get to love the 
world more than Him, give it up and come 
back. You’ll want great judgment to discern, 
and separate yourselves from the right and 
wrong that is mixed up in gay society. But 

I’m trusting that we shall have you back soon 

■ 

again.” 

They went to find Abigail at the last mo- 
ment. She was locked in her room. 

“ Say good-bye to us,” Bluebell called out. 

There was no answer for a moment, and 
then Abigail’s stern old voice rang out: 

“ ‘ She that liveth in pleasure is dead while 
she liveth.’ ” 

Not a word more could they get out of her. 

“ Oh, come on,” excleamed Heather, drag- 
ging Bluebell away. “ She doesn’t care a bit 
for us. I told you it was no good coming up to 
her.” 

When the fly drove away, Abigail leant out 
of her window and with straining eyes fol- 
lowed it. Her heart was nearly broken. She 
could hardly realize that after all these years 
of care and loving tyranny her authority had 
been swept aside with such ease, and her 
charges, in utter indifference to her threats and 
persuasions, had taken their future into their 


In Park Lane 63 

1 

I 

own hands, and had left their home in company 
with a comparative stranger. 

When they had passed out of her sight, she 
wiped the tears away with her apron. 

“ They’re gone for ever. If I see them 
again they’ll be no longer the innocent girls 
thev are now.” 

•T • *■.,"!, . : - ■ , j . . >t 

And then she walked downstairs and set 

. 

about cleaning the house and putting away all 
traces of the ones who had left her. From that 

# 1 

time forward she closed her lips, and would 
never discuss her young mistresses with Ra- 
chel, or anyone. It was about five o’clock in 
the afternoon when the girls reached Padding- 
ton Station with their cousin. As they alighted 
on the platform, feeling bewildered with the 
bustle and confusion around them, a tall, sol- 
dier-like man came forward, and Mrs. Carter 
seized hold of his arm in delight. 

“Hal, you old dear! I never thought you 
would come to meet us. Here are the girls. 
Let me introduce you. Now will you see to our 
luggage.” 

Captain Carter pulled his big moustache, and 
looked down upon his young wife with great 
affection. After the first glance at the girls, 
who were hardly looking their best in their 
country-made garments, he busied himself in 


Heather’s Mistress 


64 

\ 

carrying out his wife's directions, and he and 
she carried on an animated conversation during: 
the drive home. Heather and Bluebell were 
quietly enjoying all the fresh sights and sounds 
around them. When they came into Mrs. Car- 

, . > - " ■ ■ rj 

ter's pretty drawing-room, full of hothouse 
plants and tasteful furniture, the contrast be- 
tween it and their room at home struck them 
very forcibly. 

Afternoon tea was brought in on a dainty 
little table, and then, just as Captain Carter was 
handing them a cup, the door opened, and a 
very tall, broad-shouldered man bearing a great 
resemblance to the captain strolled in. Mrs. 
Carter welcomed him warmly, to which he 
responded with a comical shrug of his shoul- 
ders. 

“ I feel I ought to do the welcoming, for Hal 
and I are quite at home here. We have had a 
most enjoyable time together during your ab- 
sence. In fact, Hal has just come to the stage 
of believing that the house belongs to him. 
Imagaine it ! 

“ You are as rude as ever, I see. Now, girls, 
let me introduce you to my brother-m-law, Mr. 
Cyril Carter. He has just been returned mem- 
ber for his county, and it has rather turned his 
head.” 


In Park Lane ^ 65 

Cyril Carter smiled very pleasantly as he 
bowed to the twins. 

“ Your cousin is a martinet in her house. 
Did you know it ? I hardly know now which 
chair I can safely sit down upon without out- 
raging* some delicate piece of work that has a 
trick of slipping down directly you touch it. I 
set to work the other day with a needle and 
cotton and sewed them on like grim death to 
the backs of the chairs to which they are sup- 
posed to belong, but one of the maids, I see, 
has carefully unpicked all my work. I expect 
she was afraid of her mistress.” 

“ I have been wondering how many of my 
household goods would he destroyed,” said 
Mrs. Carter, looking round the room as she 
spoke. “ I don't think I shall ever leave two 
men in the house again without me. I have 

rt | 

lain awake at night thinking of the havoc I 
should find. Hal!” — and sitting upright in 
her chair, Mrs. Carter pointed severely to a 
small table in the window “ where is my white 
flower-pot? ” 

Captain Carter looked across at his brother 
in a guilty manner, who leant back in his chair 
with a complacent smile. 

“ Don’t look at me, my dear fellow. I am 
not your scapegoat.” 


66 


Heather's Mistress 


Poor Captain Carter gulped down his cup of 
tea, and walked to the door. 

” Pm just going to have a smoke,” he said 
carelessly. “ I’m very sorry, my dear, but it 
was when I heard you were really coming home 
to-day. In the excess of joy I was standing 
up to execute a faute pas , when my coat-tails 
caught the pot, and it fell ” 

“ Oh what a fall was there,” quoted Cyril 
with tragic air. “ ‘ Then you and I and all the 
world fell down.’ Whilst ” 

Captain Carter had disappeared. His wife 
stopped her brother-in-law’s quotation with a 
little vexed laugh. 

“ I might have known it ! And I gave ys. 
6 d. for that pot at Whiteley’s ! Girls, would 
you like to come upstairs? Don’t think all 
members of Parliament are as frivolous as this 
specimen. Come along — this way!” 

They had been listening to the conversation 
with amused faces, but followed her at once, 
and were charmed with their rooms, which led 
into one another, and were dainty in the ex- 
treme. 

“ My maid will come and help you to un- 
pack. Take a good rest. We do not dine till 
eight.” 

She left them, and they looked at each other. 


6 7 


In Park Lane 

• . ' . • : J ' I h J 1 

“ Do you like it? ” Heather asked. 

Bluebell nodded. 

“ I think it seems delicious/' she said; 
“ every one is in such good spirits, and it is all 
so different from home. Doesn’t it seem a year 
since this morning? ” 

Heather looked out of her window which 

d ; ' ! i:» 11 » . 1 f ' / j * .1 * f . / 1 • It J 

faced Hyde Park, and said thoughtfully : 

“ I cannot get Abigail’s verse out of my 
head. ‘ She that liveth in pleasure is dead 
while she liveth.’ Where does it come, Blue- 
bell, do you know? ” 

“No. We will look when we do our read- 
ing to-night. We are not going to live in 
pleasure, so why should it worry you? ” 

“ I think we are,” was Heather's slow re- 
ply. 

Bluebell did not answer. She was diving 
into her trunk, and brought up her head with 
a flushed and anxious look. 

“ I wish our dresses were made more like 
cousin Ida’s,” she said. “ I never used to think 
of dress, but I am sure we look great frights. 
She said to-day that she would take us to her 
dressmakers as soon as she could. Do you like 
Captain Carter? ” 

“ Yes, and his brother too. But they talk 
more like boys than men ; don’t you think so? ” 


68 Heather’s Mistress 

9 # * II 

“ I like it. I don’t feel a bit afraid of either 
of them.” 

# i 

Meanwhile they were the subjects of discus- 
sion downstairs. Captain Carter could not 
stay away from his wife for very long, and he 
was back in the drawing-room. 

“ Well,” he said, “ you will have your hands 
full. I never saw such oddities. What are 
you going to make of them? ” 

“ Humble imitations of your wife sir,” Mrs. 
Carter said, dropping him a mock courtesy. 
“ You wait till I have got them some London 
frocks ! I prophesy that next season they will 
be acknowledged beauties in society. I shall 
marry one to a foreign prince and the other 
to a duke — or shall I say a worthy millionaire? 
Dukes are all so poor nowadays. Well, Cyril, 
you old wiseacres ! I saw you stealing covert 
glances at them through your half-closed lids, 
what do you think of them? ” 

“ I think one of them is the ditto of the 
other,” put in Captain Carter, “ I don’t see the 
object of having the two. One expects a little 
varietv in one’s guests.” 

“ I know them apart already,” said his 
brother. What is the one called with the 
laughing eyes? They are the only bit of life 


In Park Lane 



about her staid little figure, but they’re as merry 
as a cricket ! ” 

“ Oh, that is Bluebell. Isn't it a pretty name, 
and the graver- faced one is Heather. I think 
she is the most clever of the two, and she has 
a good bit of pride about her. I am going to 
give them dancing lessons at once. Fancy their 
never having had any ! They have been 
brought up in a Quaker household, and you 
must both be very careful not to shock them. 
I am going to bring them on by degrees. Oh, 
I must tell you of the she-dragon who has been 
fighting me ! ” 

And forthwith Mrs. Carter gave a most vivid 
and laughable description of the quiet house- 
hold in which she had been staying. Abigail’s 
tone and manner was mimicked so successfully, 
that her husband laughed till the tears rolled 
down his cheeks. 

The girls made their appearance at dinner 
with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Before 
the evening was over they were on easy terms 
with Captain Carter and his brother. Many 
things puzzled them, especially the light badi- 
nage that flew backwards and forwards, but be- 
ing perfectly natural and unconscious of self, 
they got on far better than they had feared. 


Heather’s Mistress 


7 ° 

\ 

“ I would like to change places with you/' 

said Cyril to Bluebell in the course of the even- 
ing; “ it must be so delightful to be viewing 

London and society for the first time. You 
ought to keep a diary — I suppose you do, don’t 
you ? ” 

“ No," said Bluebell laughing. “ I don’t see 
the use of diaries, do you? Unless you are 
very, very good and leave them for people to 
publish after your death, when they write your 
biography." 

“ But aren’t you very, very good? ’’ 

Bluebell shook her little head in the nega- 
tive. 

“ Oh dear no. Of course we try to be, every- 
body does, I suppose." Then in a graver tone 
she added, “ Our old servant Abigail thinks us 
very wicked to come to London, but Heather 
and I don’t agree with her. It doesn’t say 
much for your religion if you can only be good 
in one place." 

Cyril twisted his moustache in silence, look- 
ing at her with amused eyes. Then he said 
lightly, “ Let me know when' our London air 
takes effect, and you feel yourself turning 
wicked. Now what sights are you going to 
see to-morrow ? " 

Bluebell looked across at Mrs. Carter. 


In Park Lane 71 

“ I don't know/' she said hesitatingly. 
“ You must ask Mrs. Carter." 

“ What do you want to see most ? the shops, 
I suppose ? ” 

“ Oh no indeed, we have shops at home. 
They are only three miles off." 

Cyril’s eyes twinkled, but he went on 
gravely, “ There must be a good deal you are 
longing to see, isn’t there? " 

“ Yes, we want to see Westminster Abbey 
and the Tower and the Zoological Gardens and 
London Bridge, and — oh, ever so many places. 
The Houses of Parliament too ; you speak there 
don’t you ? ” 

“Not always,” said Cyril drily. 

“ Ask him to rehearse his maiden speech,” 
put in Captain Carter. “It is like a page or 
two of Chaucer that I learnt when a boy. It 
was so indelibly impressed upon my brain that 
I shall remember it to my dying day. Your 
cousin and I had a private hearing of it, Miss 
Fotheringay. It was about one a. m. We 
thought we heard murmured voices, and so 
prowled round the house expecting to find burg- 
lars gloating over our plate. We found the 
sounds proceeded from his room, and putting 
our ears to the keyhole, heard our member 
with inflated chest and sonorous tones address- 


7 2 


Heather’s Mistress 


ing the House. It was grand. It saved us the 
trouble of going to hear him the next day. He 
learnt every word of it by heart, and he rolled 
it off with the glibness of a Paddy ? ” 

So with chat and laughter the evening wore 
away. The twins came upstairs to bed very 
tired but very happy. As they were doing • 

their evening's reading Heather said with a 

« » 

sigh : 

“ Poor old Abigail. I don’t feel quite com- 
fortable at leaving without her blessing." 

“ I think she was really angry at our taking 
our own way instead of hers," said Bluebell 
thoughtfully. “ Is it our own way? It 
ought to be God’s, wav." 

O m/ 

Heather sat down by the bright fire and 
clasped her hands round her knees as she ut- 
tered these words.. 

Bluebell looked up from her Bible quickly. 

“ I don’t see why it shouldn’t be God’s way 
for us. You told me you were praying to have 
a fuller life. And then cousin Ida came. I am 
thanking God she did, and I shall thank Him 
every day for all our pleasures.” 

There was almost a defiant note in her tones. 

Heather looked at her with a smile. 

You always think everything is for the 
best.” f 


In Park Lane 


73 

Bluebell did not reply for a minute, then she 
raised her head from her Bible again. 

“ Here it is. In the first epistle of Timothy. 
‘ But she that liveth. in pleasure is dead while 
she liveth.’ It is about widows, I think.” 

“ Well, never mind, I’m so sleepy. Let 11s 
go to bed/’ But before Heather dropped off 
to sleep she murmured. “ Poor old Abigail. I 
hope her verse won’t come true! ” 


it r 




I • • 

l » i V ■ J l , • l ) i r 

' ■ Mi ’i xti , i t . *(- 

• ' u 1 i ' • . . i ■. j j j n * J i u i. . •' i It 3 r ;*l 

CHAPTER VI 

.C f/K > H V ’ Jr : > . t •> i< 

A TASTE OF TOWN LIFE 

tv i 1 f f f 

I 'it * . 

‘‘ Every beginning is pleasant. The threshold is the 
place of expectation." — Goethe. 

• ‘ . V . .' I 

B LUEBELL, do you know we have been 
here a month to-day ? What shall I say 
about our coming* home to Rachael ? I 
am writing to her.” 

“Oh, you needn’t' say anything, need you? 
Cousin Ida has no intention of letting us go 
yet. Make haste with your letter, the dinner- 
bell will ring soon. Give my love to Rachael, 
and tell her to give the canaries a little saffron 
in their water. That is what they want when 
they don’t seem well.” 

“ Any message to Abigail? ” 

“ I should think not indeed. She has never 
sent us one or written us one line since we left.” 
“ Well, we haven’t written to her.” 

“ No, and we don’t want to. Oh, Heather, 
aren’t you longing for the concert to-mor- 
row ? ” 

The girls are sitting in their pretty bed- 

74 


A Taste of Town Life 75 

rooms, and at first glance they seemed much 
altered. Their simple white evening-dresses 
with black ribbons have a style about them 
that only a London dressmaker can give. Their 
hair is coiled up in the latest fashion, and their 
radiant animated faces make them quite beau- 
tiful. They are getting accustomed to town 
life now. They have done a great deal of sight- 
seeing under the guidance of Cyril, whom they 
regard as a cousin. He seems to have a good 
deal of spare time on his hands, and is not 
at all averse to his position as mentor. 

Mrs. Carter is very well satisfied with her 
charges. After a great deal of persuasion, she 
has begun to give them dancing-lessons, and 
the girls, though wondering what Abigail 
would say, are quick aiid apt pupils and thor- 
oughly enjoy it. They have not been intro- 
duced into society yet, but Captain Carter, who 
is in the Grenadier Guards, is in the habit of 
bringing several of his brother officers in to 
dinner, and Mrs. Carter has a great many 
friends and acquaintances who avail themselves 
of her genial pleasant hospitality. So that al- 
together they see a great deal of company, and 
the novelty attracts and delights them. 

A few minutes later and the girls had left 
their rooms and were going in to dinner. 


Heather’s Mistress 


76 

\ 

" It seems quite nice to be alone for once/’ 
said Mrs. Carter. kk I hope you have no en- 
gagement to-night, Hal ? ” 

“ Tell me how you're going to entertain me 
if I stay at home." 

“ We are going to have some music. You 
haven't heard Heather play on her harp. It 
arrived this morning. I don't know, whether 
it’s the thing for her to take up. Harp-playing 
has gone out of fashion." 

“ Then by all means play it," said Cyril 
turning to Heather with a little nod of ap- 
proval. “ There's nothing like novelty nowa- 
days, and girls must be conspicuous or they'll 
die!” 

“ I don’t mind being ‘ conspicuous ’ as you 
call it, when we are alone," said Heather spirit- 
edly, “ and I am not going to give up my harp 
for any one. I love it! " 

“ We'll arrange a programme. Minnehaha, 
you and I will sing our duet that we have been 
practising. The captain will recite a barrack- 
room ballad, and the missus will finish up with 
a waltz on the piano and we'll foot it on the 
carpet. What ? Is your precious carpet unable 
to bear the strain of our light feet? We’ll exit 
into the hall then. I have been yawning over 


A Taste of Town Life 77 

county council bills all the day, and must 
stretch my limbs a little.” 

“ I always say,” said Captain Carter medita- 
tively, “ that county- town members are the 
most narrow, useless beings in the whole 
House. Their interest is only in agriculture 
and in game laws. Anything affecting the 
metropolis or the world at large is a matter of 
perfect indifference to them. They vote which- 
ever way their party tells them. And as to mat- 
ters concerning the Services or the colonies 
they’re as ignorant as a baby. They're sent to 
the House by a few hundreds of country yo- 
kels, and as long as they know what their con- 
stituents want, and try to get it for them, they 
think they have done their duty.” 

“ I will not be drawn into talking shop,” said 
Cyril calmly. “ When we are in ladies’ society 
let us suit the conversation to their capabili- 
ties.” " 1 

“ I never take interest in parliamentary af- 
fairs, unless there is a row of any sort,” said 
Mrs. Carter, not at all offended by her brother- 
in-law's remark. “ I like to read of the lords of 
creation losing their tempers, and slanging each 

other like a pack of schoolboys, but when they 

• > 

are all dull and prosy they’re no good at all. 


78 Heather’s Mistress 

/ V A 
\ \ 

I think your maiden speech was the essence of 
dulness, Cyril ! ” 

* * j 

“ Thank you. I know now what your taste 
is, and what style you prefer. What are you 
making big eyes at, Minnehaha? ” 

He had dubbed Bluebell this two days after 
her first arrival. 

“ I was thinking/' she said, “ how very sel- 
dom I have heard you speak seriously on any 
subject/' ’ 

“ He couldn’t be serious/’ responded Mrs. 
Carter, “ it runs in the family. Even on my 
wedding-day just before we took our places in 
church together, Hal whispered — 

ft. » « 

“ ‘ All the king’s horses, and all the king’s men, 
Can’t make me a happy bachelor again ! * ” 

< • j; • p. : ' : ' . VFi; t i:(\ j , ’ . 

“ She looked so exasperatingly superior and 
complacent/’ said Captain Carter joining in the 
laugh. “ I suppose it’s the one day when wo- 
men feel their power. The man is nowhere, 
people look upon him as a poor fool ! ” 

“ Power is a wonderful thing,” said Cyril 
fixing his eyes on Bluebell’s laughing face op- 
posite his. 

“ There isn’t a human being on earth who 
doesn’t love power.” 

“ I don’t,” said Bluebell promptly. 


A Taste of Town Life 


79 


“ I do/’ said Mrs. Carter, nodding her head 

- ; , ) ; . • * . . I . ' . • « 

saucily across at her husband. 

“ And I think I do sometimes,” said Heather 

f * i s - * . • . . * 

\ t t % • i .• O . * i i t f <4 V / * * 

slowly. 

“ Allow me to continue. It is a subject upon 
which I can speak* seriously. Power is an at- 
tribute that is in the breast of every human 
creature from their infancy. Take a baby, why 
does it love shaking a rattle, ringing a hand- 
bell, seizing handfuls of its mother’s hair? The 
love of power over all objects it can grasp. 
Watch a girl alternately nursing and slapping a 
doll, a boy beating a drum and whipping a top. 
Power over inanimate objects again. See the 
schoolboy bullying, making pets of anything he 
can control, and working havoc in all direc- 
tions. Love of power prompts him. Ask an 
artist, a musician, a sculptor, an author in what 
their chief enjoyment consists. They will al- j 
low if they are truthful, that it is their sense of 
power over their pencils, their pens, their clay 
and their instruments. Analyse your own feel- 
ings over your favorite occupations, you will 
find you never really like a thing unless you can 
think you do it well.” 

“ Such as hearing oneself talk, and reducing 
others to silence,” murmured Captain Carter. 
“ Pray go on.” 


80 Heather’s Mistress 

i ; : j i ' * * t ' ; ' \ ; \ ■ , • , . • . | , 

“ I don’t think I agree with you/’ said Hea- 
ther turning to Cyril. 

“ You never do,” said Mrs. Carter, laughing*. 
“ I think you two disagree on every point 
brought up.” 

Cyril raised his eyebrows. 

Heather said a little confusedly, “ I was 
thinking about enjoyment. I like playing on 
my harp, but I enjoy hearing other’s music 
much the best. I think I like anything that 
takes me quite away from my surroundings.” 

“ Highly complimentary to present com- 
pany,” murmured Captain Carter again,, and 
Heather's fair voting- face was covered with 
blushes at once. 

“ You are only half developed yet, my child,” 
said Cyril with his grand fatherly air, stopping 
her confused apology. “ Wait till you have 
had a season in town ; your tastes will have al- 
tered by that time, I fancy.” 

“ Lady Grace asked me to-day if they were 
going to be presented,” said Mrs. Carter, look- 
ing across at her husband. “ What do you 
male creatures think about it? ” 

“ Folly and waste of money,” said her hus- 
band tersely. 

Bluebell and Heather looked up greatly ex- 
cited. 


A Taste of Town Life 81 


“Presented to the Queen!'’ they gasped. 
“ Could we be ? ” 

“ Very easily. I was presented just after my 
marriage, and I could take you. If you stay a 

(' > t ■ ; i i *)i- 

couple of months longer with me, 1 can manage 

• > » > 
it. 

“ Are they going back to the country after 

« 

such a taste of society? ” queried Cyril with a 
mocking light in his eyes. 

Mrs. Carter rose. 

“ We need not discuss the matter further 

now,” she said with great dignity. “ Come, 

. 

girls, we will leave them to their smoke.” 

But Heather and Bluebell were far too ex- 
cited to let the matter drop. They pursued it 
in the drawing-room till the gentlemen came 


in, and when they retired to their rooms were 
still full of the subject. 

“ We must stay away longer now,” said 
Heather. “ Why, even Abigail would be proud 
to think we had been presented to the Queen ! 
Isn’t it almost like a fairy tale, Bluebell ? Some- 
times I fancy we shall wake up and find it all 
a dream.” 

“ Yes,” said Bluebell; “ it seems as if every 
enjoyment has been kept away from us all our 
lives, and now they crowd upon us so thick and 
fast that it is quite overwhelming. ” 


82 Heather’s Mistress 


i i ' > T • ' A | j t ' r , r * \ 

“ And Abigail would have kept us out of 
it all.” 

“ Heather, do you know, I cannot go back to 
our old life again. Is it wicked, I wonder, to 
feel so? ” 

Heather gave an impatient little sigh. 

“ Oh, don’t keep asking if it is wicked,” she 
said, “ I’m going to enjoy the present as much 
as ever I can without thinking.” 


Bluebell drew her Bible to her but she soon 
closed it. 

“ I feel I can’t do anything but think about 
the Drawing Room,” she said. “Won’t you 

be very frightened of making your courtesy, 
Heather? Cousin Ida says we can’t be asked 

out to any really nice people’s houses until we 
have been presented. I did not know that was 
so necessary. 

“ Our dresses will cost a lot of money,” said 

, r • ■ 

Heather meditatively. “ I don’t know how it 
is, but money seems to fly in London. We have 

• i ■ t , . 1 

spent more in this month than we should do in 


a whole year at home.” 

“ Cousin Cyril said that was part of our 
education. To learn how to spend money! 
How dreadfully satirical he is. He always 

f , l ! 

seems to consider women on such a much lower 
level than himself. And don’t you object to 


A Taste of Town Life. 83 


his making fun of serious subjects as he does? 


I do dislike his asking us so often how our 
religion is getting on ! ” 

“ He seems to think we’re losing it,” said 
Heather slowly, as she brushed out her curly 
hair and gazed at herself abstractedly in the 
glass as she did so. Then after a moment’s 
pause she added, “ And I am not sure that he 
isn’t right.” 

® it X ( % . * i ! r * ' > ^ * 4 

“ Speak for yourself, please,” said Bluebell 
lightly. “ I’m not going to turn into a heathen 
because I am in London. It’s ridiculous, and 
absurd.” 

“ What is true religion? ” 

Heather breathed rather than spoke the 
words. Then .she flashed forth a little ex- 
citedly : 

“ I wonder now if we ever had anything but 
a mere form of religion. We had nothing to 
tempt us, nothing to try us at home. I don’t 
believe any girls were more shielded from evil 
than we were. And now when our lives are so 
utterly changed, it seems a test of it all. I can’t 
get Abigail’s verse out of my head, ‘ She that 
liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.’ I 
don’t know how you feel, but I want pleasure. 
I love it, and I seem to want more and more of 
it. I should be miserable if I went home now, 


Heather’s Mistress 


84 

and left it all when we are only just beginning 
to enjoy ourselves. But I don’t believe God 

wants us to be shut out of the world. Cousin 

' . 

Ida is religious and she loves London society. 

* 1 • . *» * 

I mean to copy her. I believe there are two 

* j - » 

kinds of religion in the Bible ; Abigail’s is one 
kind and Cousin Ida’s is the other, and which 
is right, I wonder ! I know which is the bright- 
est and happiest life.” 

“ It’s very puzzling,” said Bluebell, a graver 
look stealing into her merry eyes. “ But I 
think we’re both of one mind about it. We will 

• » t 1 

enjoy the present while we can. And don’t let 
us philosophize too much about it. It puts one 
in the blues ! ” 



7 




; ■ -fit 


. r. 



r 



) 


II 


1 ( 1 




1 < o i 1 






/ 1 




CHAPTER VII 
duty's call 

m : ; ; ;rjoil Djjjl Hi ! ,r v >, : !> > cv- n f dt 

“ It is right to begin with the obligations of home — no 
other duties can possibly be substituted for them." — • 
Dickens. 

U)! L> > .aft j.)i q i : ; C 9 

M ORE than a year has passed. 

Bluebell and Heather have not yet 
been home. They have travelled 
abroad with their cousin; they have passed a 
season in town ; and the little simple country 
girls have developed into brilliant young wo- 
men of fashion. Mrs. Carter is beginning to 
wonder when they will marry. Heather has 

had two or three offers but has refused them all. 
She charms many by her little imperious 
queenly ways, her bright wits, and her quick 
changes of mood from grave to gay. 

Bluebell is always saucy and bewitching; 
some wonder if she can ever be serious; some, 
if she has a heart at all. At present she has 
a persistent and devoted suitor, Sir Herbert 
Mowbray by name. He is not a very young 
man, and is silent and reserved by nature. 

85 


86 


Heather’s Mistress 


Bluebell alone can bring the grave smile to his 
eye and lips. But she holds him aloof, ignores 
his devotion, and treats him as she treats all 
others, with laughing indifference. The sisters 
have very few grave conversations together 
now. Their Bible reading is short and hurried, 
often missed altogether. The late hours and 
rush of gaiety that they live in, have already 
left its marks on their young faces. But they 
appear in the brightest spirits, and Mrs. Carter 
is more than satisfied with the success of her 
training. Captain Carter looks upon them as 
permanent inmates of his household, and will 
not hear of them taking their departure. Cyril 
still chaffs and criticises their actions. He 
makes his brother’s house his home when par- 
liament is sitting, but is a good part of the year 
in the country managing his property. 

“ Girls, where shall we go this summer ?” 
said Mrs. Carter one sunny morning in July, 
as they sat at breakfast. It is too stifling for 
words in town, i am longing for a breath of 
country air.” 

“ We have four invitations for August,” said 
Heather a little languidly, “ none of which we 
have accepted yet.” 

“ One of them is to Lady Grace in Scotland, 
but I always think Scotch houses are very dull 


Duty’s Call 8 7 

except during the shooting. What are the 
others ? ” 

“ Mrs. Finch wants us to go in a house-boat 
with her.” 

“ Without me. Yes, I remember, and I 
think she is too go ahead ! Who are her 
party?” 

“ Mr. Finch, Major Rankin, Mr. Greeson, 
and a young nephew.” 

Mrs. Carter pursed up her mouth and looked 
across at her brother-in-law. 

“ I am not prudish,” she said; “ but what did 
you tell me about Major Rankin, Cyril? ” 

Cyril stroked his moustache with a superior 
air. 

Something best not repeated," he said. 
“ That invitation must be declined at once." 

“ That is for us to settle,” said Heather 
quickly, with a flash in her eyes that Cyril al- 
ways called the “ danger signal." 

“ What is number three? " asked Mrs. Car- 
ter hastily. “ We will talk about accepting, or 
declining them later.” 

“ Lady Mowbray’s,” put in Bluebell. “ Sir 
Herbert has been pestering my life out, ever 
since I had the letter.” 

“ And the fourth ? ” 

“ Oh, that doesn’t really count,” said Idea- 


Heather’s Mistress 


88 

\ 

ther, looking out of the window as she spoke. 

“ Because it is the only one that is coming 
off.” said Cyril coolly. “Don't pretend you 
have forgotten, missus, that you are coming to 

i 

entertain for me. I expect the whole lot of you 

* 

for a good month.” 

“Oh, did we promise? I must say I like 
being entertained better than entertaining,” 
said Mrs. Carter with a little grimace. “ I get 
enough of that in my own house.” 

We certainly shall not give vou a month,” 
'said Bluebell. “ We should all be bored to 
death. Heather and I will give you the last 
week in August if you like, after we have done 
out other visits.” 

“ Speak for yourself, Minnehaha! Heather 

♦ r r> 

will come before that if you don’t.” 

Both girls exclaimed : 

“ We have never been separated in our lives. 
As if we would sleep apart from each other for 
a single night.” 

“ Now, my dear children, that idea is quite 
exploded. It is a perfect fallacy to think twins 
ought not to be separated. I know two fellows 
— twins — who led a life of misery till they took 
my advice ; one went towards the North Pole 
the other towards the South, and they quietly 
and firmly decided that they should never come 


Duty's Call 


89 

into contact with one another again. Their life 
was becoming a perfect bondage to them, arid 

* j * ' v f > 1 

when they were once away from each other, 
they said it was a delicious sensation to realise 
their individuality apart and- alone from any 

1 $ , f ; • r r •; , f • ■. j . , ‘ 

one else’s. The sooner you assert your sepa- 
rate individuality the better for both of you. 
Now, missus, put your oar in ! You knotv I 
am speaking words of wisdom. How are the 
silly young creatures to get husbands if they 
will live in one another's pockets? There, I 
thought the missus would rise to that bait. I 
will leave you to fight it out together. Men 
are best out of the way when husbands are 
under discussion ! ” 

»■ • I * my 

Cyril sauntered out of the room after this 
speech. 

Mrs. Carter began to improve the occasion. 
” I think there is a certain amount of sense 
in what he says, girls. If you could make up 
your minds to do without each other some- 
times, it would be much better for you. For 
instance, Lady Mowbray wants Bluebell, Lady 

t * 

Grace wants you, Heather.” 

Bluebell flushed a little, and laughed. 

“ I am not going to Lady Mowbray’s by 

r , y 

myself, Cousin Ida. Not if I know it! She is 
an irascible old ladv, I have heard. Even her 

J 7 


go Heather’s Mistress 

\ 

son says she is ‘ difficult,’ and he is devoted to 
her.” 

, i.V I ' J ’ M * J / I / 7 'i , i . . t f * . / / v * f • < 

“ If you make up your mind to accept Sir 
Herbert, you must make the best of his 
mother/’ said Mrs. Carter quietly. Then look- 
ing at Bluebell a little keenly she said: “ He 

spoke to me about you yesterday evening — I — 
I wished him success! ” 

Bluebell only laughed. 

“Don’t look like that at me, Cousin Ida! 
As if you are longing to congratulate me. It 
is premature, I assure you. If he doesn't take 
care, he'll find such haste will spoil his cause. 
I am not going to be tied or bound to any man 
yet. I love my liberty too much." 

She danced out of the room singing as she 
did so : — 

“ I care for nobody, and somebody cares for me. 

If somebody thinks he's nobody, I may care for he ! '* 

, t j r r , , , r ]} . vjv ,. >f | .-j , r.\ 

Mrs. Carter looked a little worried. 

“ I hoped you would both be engaged by this 
time," she said to Heather who sat gravely 
looking through her letters. “It isn’t my fault 
that you are not." ■ ( 

“ No indeed,” said Heather quickly looking 
up; “ I am afraid we have sadly disappointed 
vou. I had never realised till I had gone 


9 1 


Duty's Call 

through a season what a solemn duty this busi- 
ness of marriage is. And sometimes, Cousin 
Ida, it sickens me. Life isn't all marrying and 
giving in marriage ! You have been truly good 
to us, but I think Bluebell will soon do what 
you want. Don’t worry her too much.” 

“ And what about you? ” 

Heather got up from her seat, and walked 
over to the window. She drew her slight 
young figure up rather proudly. 

“ I would rather not discuss myself. Blue- 
bell and I cannot part with each other yet. I 
think we must do our visits together. Shall 
we talk over them now? ” 

“ There is one lesson I have to learn,” said 
Mrs. Carter with a mock plaintive air. “If I 
can come the ‘ missus ’ over Hal and Cyril, I 
can’t over you two girls. Sometimes I think 
you look upon me as an old dowdy chaperon. 
I wonder if vou do ! It’s the wav of young 
girls nowadays.” 

“ It will never be our way,” said Heather 
warmly ; “ Bluebell and I can never thank you 
enough for all the enjoyment you have given 

lie ” 

U5. j : • 

Then the two sat down to earnest discussion 
over the forthcoming visits. 

A month later and the twins were at Rawton 


Heather’s Mistsess 


92 

\ 

Cross, Cyril’s property. They had visited Lady 
Mowbray, and had liked the hot-tempered, 
good-natured old lady. Bluebell was not yet 
tormally engaged to Sir Herbert, but it was an 
understood thing, arid Heather sometimes won- 
dered why her sister seemed to hang back when 
matters had gone so far. Cyril was a capital 
host. His house was a picturesque-looking 
Gothic building, and he filled it with pleasant 
guests. 

Mrs. Carter was in her element at once. 

She said one day as she was dispensing after- 

noon tea on the lovely old lawn under the beech 

. # • ► * - 

trees : “ I think I would have made you a good 

r * ' 1 t \ 4 

wife, Cyril. What a pity you didn’t ask me 
before Hal did.” ' * • 

“ The red coat did it,” said her husband 

» * .9 

lazily. “ I felt her heart thump its admiration 
the first time we met when I took her into sup- 
per at one of our regimental festivities! ” 

“ How can you give me away so before these 
girls? You know you had to propose to me 
three times before I accepted you! ” 

“ No,” said Cyril meditatively, as he leant 
back in his lounge chair and surveyed the com- 
pany with lazy satisfaction, “ I have found celi- 
bacy such a blessing that I have constantly con- 


& U 


„ Duty’s- Call 93 

gratulated myself that I have ‘ kept myself to 
myself ? all these years.” 

” It is a shame of you/”. said a young Mrs, 
Plowman coquettishly. Your house will 
never be truly comfortable till it has a mistress. 
And think how many single women would be 

only too thankful to take charge of you ” 

“ And my money ! ” , > 

“ Mercenary wretch! Who are you saving 
it for?” 

Heather, who had been listening to this 
silently, now got up and sauntered away. 

Sometimes the empty club chat of society 
disgusted her. She had never really become 
accustomed to it, and other graver thoughts 
were now occupying her mind. 

She turned her steps to a winding path that 
led into the woods close by. Walking along, 

she found herself soon between steep banks of 
moss and fern, and with a long-drawn breath 
of delight, she sprang up and curling herself 
up amongst the ferns, she rested her head 
against an old tree, and proceeded to read and 
re-read a letter which seemed to cause her much 
anxious thought. . , 

Time went on, and still she sat there. Bright- 
eyed rabbits, with startled ears, peeped over the 


j 


94 


Heather’s Mistress 


high ferns to look at this intruder. A squirrel 
darted over the branches above her, and the 

V t 

wood-pigeons came and cooed in the top of 

i , # * , | r j . f . 0 f , 

some tall elms close by. 

Heather did not heed them. She clasped 

and unclasped her hands nervously. Her 
brows were puckered, and her face looked har- 
assed. Then she took out a pencil from her 
pocket, and began making rapid calculations on 
paper. A heavy sigh followed, and then her 
quiet was suddenly disturbed. 

“ Found at last, Regina! ” 

It was only Cyril who called her by this 
nickname, and he stood over her with an 
amused look in his eyes. 

“ Now what may I ask has suddenly driven 
you to solitude? In love at last? ” 

Heather looked up startled, and a little an- 
noyed. “ Do you never feel you would like to 
be alone? ” she said trying to speak carelessly. 

“ Oh yes, very often. But beautiful maidens 
must not be allowed to waste their sweetness on 
the desert air. Major Canning has been hunt- 
ing for you. Jack Bedford is distrait at your 
absence, and each supposes you are having a 
tete-a-tete with Frank Rush toil who has also 
disappeared.” 

Heather gave another sigh. 


Duty s Call 


95 


“ I wish you could be serious,” she said, 

“ then I might confide in you. I would just as 
soon tell you as Cousin Ida, because you can 
keep things quiet, and she cannot.” 

He threw himself down on the grass beside 

0 i 

her. 

* - ’it * f ; r / i • j • [ I r, 

“ I am your elder brother. Now, child, tell 
it out ! ” 

A pink flush rose to Heather's face. She 
hesitated, then plunged into her perplexity. 

“ Cousin Cyril I have a letter here from one 
of our old servants, Rachael. It is not the first 
one I have received in such a strain. I used to 

' .1 t , y ii ' < • > > ■ ' > i l.i 

think I was very good at money matters, but 

somehow or other now. Bluebell and I cannot 

: ' : . 

keep within our incomes. Both these last two 

/ * i * % • { ...» » 

quarters I am ashamed to say we have over- 
drawn at our bank. These are things that must 
been seen to at once at home,* repairs to our 

i • 

small farm. We have not the money to send. 
And worse than all there are two or three old 

• : f • t : , . 'y.-' " 1 1 : r : l . ’ ; ’ i ' y t I d / ) 

people to whom our grandmother always paid 
a small weekly pittance. Rachael asks me to 
send the amount for the next quarter, and — and 
I caanot do it.”‘ 

f\ j it } • > ; • i ■ ■ 

u Hard up! ” said Cyril with a quiet smile. 

* j , . 

“ Borrow from me, till you get around the 


corner ! 


f 


96 Heather’s Mistress 

Heather drew her head up proudly. 
kk Never,” she said. “ I will not go further 
into debt. 1 feel disgraced, and ashamed when 
I think of the sums we have been lavishing on 
our amusements and dress, whilst our dear old 
people at home are actually in want.” 

She paused, then went on rapidly : 

• f ! * ' i J ; > 

“ I daresay you cannot understand, but the 
villagers have always looked to us for relief, 
and grandmother used to give a great deal 
away. I promised her before she died that we 
would continue to do the same. It is only lately 
that I have found it impossible to keep my 
promise. We are spending a good deal of 
money, and do not seem able to draw in.” 
kk The only tiling for you to do is to let or 
sell your old home. You will never go back to. 
live there again, so why have the expense of 
keeping it all up for the sake of two old ser- 

* I I ■ ~ { f • • ! t I 

. vants? Pension them off, let the farm go, and 

‘1* -r • f I • f , r # * f '' ,/f 1 ( ' ( 

you will find yourself the richer.” 

Cyril spoke with easy indifference, but he 
was watching her very keenly the while. 

Heather flashed round upon him impetu- 
ously : kk Is pleasure before duty your only clue 
out of the difficulty? ” 

He smiled. 

“ I thought you had forgotten there was such 

o o 


97 


Duty’s Call 

a word as duty these past twelve months,” he 
said, “ we who follow fashion’s fancy will have 
none of such an old-fashioned article! ” 

Heather looked straight before her with 
compressed lips, and flashing eyes. 

“ There is one way out of the difficulty/’ she 
said determinedly, and that is the way we must 
take.” 

“ Into the bankruptcy court? ” 

“ We must go home, and stay there! ” 

He looked at her curiously, then sprang to 
his feet. . 

“Away with such a dark thought! Let us 
return to lighter, and brighter realities. Come 
and have a row on the river! “ 

Heather gave a sigh, put her letter in her 
pocket, and was soon her bright self again when 
she joined the others still on the lawn. 

But she had made a resolve in her own heart 
and that resolve she meant to keep. 




J 


* f • 


CHAPTER VIII 

! * : : it fK ( ■ I i J_I ‘ ) f. ) *1 C I f f | < .) 

SEPARATION. 

“ He who has well considered his duty, will at once 

carry his conviction into action.” — S. Smiles. 

O /;.)] Vf>fil f.J ■dl| , ,;j “ 

* IP) LUEBELL, we must go home. That 
is the only solution to our difficulty/’ 
The girls were talking* it over a 
few nights later, when they had retired to their 
room for the night. 

“ We can’t do that.” 

“ When do you think of returning? ” 

“ OH, some day. Not yet awhile. Picture 
Abigail’s greeting! When I have found life a 
failure, I will take refuge in her arms. She 
would welcome me then. Never,' if I was. find- 
ing it a joy and a success? ” 

“ We cannot go on as we are doing. Blue- 
bell, vou are not a child — be serious! Do you 

' ms 

like being in debt? Do you enjoy thinking of 
Mary Scrivens, and old Ralph going without 
their little comforts, even necessaries, because 
we are spending the money that rightfully be- 
longs to them. I cannot sleep at night for 

98 


99 


Separation 


worrying over it. We must go back, there is 
no way out of it.” 

Bluebell leant back in an easychair and 
clasped her hands behind her neck. Her saucy 


“I know we are in rather a fix. We mustn't 
be so extravagant in future. Money seems to 
fly in London. Oh, dear ! I wish we were 
really rich! Can't you borrow a little from 
• Cousin Ida ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t think of it. When could we 
pay it back? The more I think about it the 
more convinced I am that it is our duty to go 
home and stay there quietly. I have spoken to 
Cousin Ida about it to-day. She was angry at 
first, but when I had talked to her for a little, 
she said that perhaps it would be wise. Her 
idea is that we should go home for a time, and 
come to her next spring again.” 

Bluebell looked annoyed. 

“ You needn't have spoken to her about it. 
I don’t mean to go home. Captain and Mrs. 
Foster have asked us to go a yachting trip with 
them. Sir Herbert, and Cousin Cyril are both 
going. And I have promised we shall go.” 

“ I shall not go.” , ; f 


eyes took a grave look. 


“ I shall 



> / 


Then I must go home alone! ” 




I oo 


Heather’s Mistress 


There was dead silence. Each girl had a 
strong will, but never in their lives had they 
clashed with each other before. 

And before long Bluebell was in tears, and 
Heather with a strained white face was pacing 
the room. 

Then Bluebell, from passionate protestations, 
began to coax and entreat. 

Heather set her lips in hard lines, and list- 
ened without a word. 

» 

Duty was before her. She had been brought 
up from her infancy to consider it an important 
part of life, and not even the gay pleasures she 
had so delighted in, could turn her steps aside. 

Her heart felt nearlv breaking when she 
realised that Bluebell would prefer separation 
to taking up the quiet country life again. She 


did not look forward to it with pleasure herself. 
She was still enjoying her society life, and the 
possibility of going back alone to the two old 
servants seemed too dreadful to contemplate. 

Bluebell was almost as miserable at the 
thought of separation. And yet the growing 

• » V ,s . . J, , 

love for all that makes a society life pleasant 
perhaps helped her to bear it with more equa- 

. . " t . r r , . . * 

mmity. 

“ Nothing will induce me to go back! ” she 
sobbed. “ I hate the idea of it! I should die 


Separation 101 

if I were stifled in that silent house again with- 
out a soul to speak to from one year's end to 
another ! I wish an earthquake would swallow 
the whole place up! Yes, I do! Don’t look 
so shocked! I’ll never go back there, never, 
never, never! ; 

She crept off to bed, sobbing. 

Heather lay awake with tearless eyes, but 
with a sick pain at heart. All sunshine in her 
path seemed to have gone. Only dull heavy 
clouds hung above her. And then when Blue- 
bell had at last sobbed herself to sleep, Heather 
crept up to her, hung over her with a world of 
love in her grey eyes, and laying her cheek 
against hers, kissed her passionately. 

“ Our first quarrel, our first separation ! 
How shall I be able to bear it! ” 

Bluebell stirred and smiled in her sleep. 
Then one word came softly between her lips 
— “ Herbert !” 

Heather turned away passionately. 

“ She does not care. She only thinks of him ! 
It would have had to come sooner or later, so I 
must bear it.” 

And then, kneeling down by her bed, she 
took her trouble to One whom she but seldom 
approached now. As she bent her head a rush 
of sorrow for her coldness and carelessness in 


102 


Heather’s Mistress 


her daily devotions came over her. And the 
tears which up to now had been stayed, gushed 
freely. 

When she crept into bed again, it was with a 
greater feeling of comfort and peace than she 
had experienced for some time. 

The girls were very quiet the next morning. 
Cyril rallied them on their gravity. Mrs. Car- 
ter looked anxious; the other guests were a lit- 
tle puzzled, for the twins were acknowledged 
to be the life of every party they joined. At 
last the facts were known, and once known 
Heather hastened to put her resolve into action. 
In two days’ time her trunks were packed, and 
she was bidding good-bye to every one. Cyril 
drove her to the station in his dog-cart. Blue- 
bell had taken leave of her sister in private, and 
was now sobbing her heart out in her room. 

Heather was quiet and dignified ; her feel- 
ings were too deep for words, and she had 
the sense of rest when alone with Cyril that she 
had sadly been needing before all the curious 
eyes and comments of her friends. 

“ You won't be able to do without us," said 
Cyril at last, quietly and meditatively. 

Heather's spirit rose at once. 

“ I lived twenty-two years very happily with- 
out any of you," she said. 


Separation 103 

‘‘Not without Minnehaha! But I was not 
thinking of her. How will you spend your 
time? You are like a bird that has been freed 
returning to its cage. You will only beat your 
wings against the bars and stop your sing- 
ing.” 

“ Never! One would think my home was a 
prison.” 

“How long will you immure yourself? I 
won’t repeat some lady’s conjectures that I 
have heard. Your sex is very unmerciful.” 

“ Oh, I can guess them,” said Heather, with 
a hard little laugh, “ They say I am disap- 
pointed in love, and am going into seclusion to 
hide my wounded heart, or some say I am go- 
ing to recruit my health and beauty and flash 
out afresh the beginning of next season, re- 
membering the old adage, ‘ absence makes the 
heart grow fonder.' You see I am well aware 
of what is said behind my back.” 

“It is a pity you haven't married,” said Cyril, 
in his most fatherly tone. “Now Minnehaha 
is doing well for herself. It would be a good 
way out of your difficulty.” 

Heather smiled, then looking up into his 
face she said frankly: 

“ Do you know that is the one reason why I 
am glad I am going home. I shall hear noth- 


104 Heather's Mistress 

in g of the modern marriage market. I am so 
tired of it all." 

- “ Have you made up your mind to choose a 
spinster’s lot." 

“ It is not one to he despised,” she said. 

He was silent. 

When he had seen her into a comfortable 
carriage, tossed some picture papers into her 
lap, and held out his hand for the final good- 
bye, he said : “ You are a strong-minded young 
woman. But I admire the principle' that is at 
the root of it ! The missus says you will be 
back under her wings within a month. I give 
you two. Adieu ! " 

The train moved off. Heather waved a laugh- 
ing farewell, but when once alone great tears 
filled her eyes. 

She leant back in her seat feeling lonely, for- 
lorn, and miserable. Not even the conviction 
that she was obeying the dictates or her con- 
science and had not faltered in the path of duty 
could comfort her now. 

“ I am so young,” she murmured regretfully, 
<k to leave it all and to lead the life in front of 
me. It was fit for our grandmother. It is not 
fit for us. It is the best time of my life now, 
and it is wasting it to shut myself up with Abi- 
gail and Rachael.” 


Separation. 105 

So she mused, and then took herself to task 
for having such selfish views. She took up the 
papers, and tried to bury herself in the news of 
the day. The journey seemed never ending. 

At last she reached the country town. No 
one was there to meet her, but she hardly ex- 
pected it. Taking a fly, she was driven slowly 
through the country lanes she knew so well, 
and reached home about five o’clock. It was a 
lovely summer's evening; the drive up to the 
house was bordered with bright flower beds, 
and masses of crimson roses and white clematis 
fell over the porch. As she stepped out, a burst 
of song came from the canaries' cage in the 
green-house. And Heather lifted up her tired 
head, and with a bright smile came into the 
cool, dark hall. 

Abigail stood like a sentinel inside ; Rachael 
was fluttering about in the background. 
Heather did not wait for a welcome, she went 
straight into Abigail’s arms, and was not re- 
pulsed. 

“One of your wanderers has come back,” she 
whispered, and then, putting her arms round 
the old servant’s neck, with the simplicity of a 
child, she kissed her. 

Abigail cleared her throat, tried to speak, 
and then Heather felt a hot tear touch her 


Heather's Mistress 


1 06 

cheek. With a little jerk Abigail released her- 
self from those clinging arms, and found her 
self-control again by scolding the driver for 
treading on the beeswaxed floor with his heavy 
nailed boots. Heather turned to Rachael, who 
laughed and cried in the same breath. 

“ Oh, my dear Miss Heather, we thought we 
had lost you altogether. It has been a long 
dreary time this past year. But eh ! — how did 
you leave Miss Bluebell? Are we not going to 
see her down here? And how bonny you're 
looking, but not the same young lady that went 
from here. You are so grand — have such an 
air. Is it dress has done it? ” 

“ I hope I am just the same," Heather said, 
laughing; and resolving to preserve a brave 
front she ran in and out of the rooms, looking 
at and praising all she could. The evening sun- 
shine stealing in through the casement windows 
bri ghtened up the dark corners; and though 
she found all exactly as she had left it, her heart 

sank at the bareness, the crude colouring, and 
the absence of the pretty details to which she 

had become accustomed in her cousin’s house. 

“If I had not come home to economise, I 
would improve and alter many things," was 
her thought as she stood in the drawing-room 
and surveyed the brown Holland coverings 


Separation 107 

with uneasy disapproval. “ I can arrange the 
furniture a little differently, but what is the 
good of it when I am all by myself ! Oh, how 
shall I be able to live alone ! Bluebell might 
have come — she might have come! ” 

It was her inward cry all that evening. Abi- 
gail waited upon her in solemn silence at din- 
ner, and afterwards she wandered out into the 
garden. But though the soft stillness of the 
evening air soothed her, she could not feel con- 
tent in her surroundings,* and when later on 
Abigail brought the big Bible and took her seat 
with Rachael to take part in evening prayers, 
Heather had hard work to keep her self-control. 

When Abigail, silver candlestick in hand, 
came up with her to her room, Heather put her 
hand on her arm wistfully. 

“ Come in and talk to me, Abigail. Tell me 
you have forgiven us for running away from 
you. And tell me all about the farm — and the 
old people. I — I feel lonely to-night.” 
Abigail’s hard face softened. 

“If you have seen the evil of your ways, 
Miss Heather, and are purposing to follow in 
your dear grandmother’s footsteps, I will be 
the last one to cast up the past in your face.” 
“Don’t scold me. I cannot stand scolding 
to-night. I don't know what I am going to do 


io8 


Heather’s Mistress 


yet. But to-morrow morning I am going to 
to talk business with you arid Rachael. I want 
the gossip of the neighborhood, Abigail. ' 

kk You went away a sweet and simple mai- 
den,' ’ said Abigail with a sigh, “and you have 
come back a fashionable town lady. I hardly 
am liking to touch your hair. Maybe you 
would rather I did not take up the old ways 
again ? ” 

Heather laughed, and throwing her dressing- 
gown round her, handed Abigail her brush. 

“ I shall love to have you attend me. Now 

talk and brush a wav’ 

* 

Abigail’s next question brought a pink flush 
to Heather’s cheeks. 

“ And how goes your soul’s health, Miss 
Heather ? That is what I am longing to know. 
Are you as near heaven as you were when you 
left this? ” . • 

“ I would rather you told me first what I am 
longing to know.” 

Heather’s tone was dignity itself. Abigail 
gave a heavy sigh, but after a pause began 
telling her the village news, and Heather did 
not give her an opportunity again of any per- 
sonal questions. She chatted and laughed, and 
then wished her good-night; but seeing the 
grieved look on the old woman’s face as she 


Separation 109 

was taking her departure, she said with one of 
her flashing smiles that were so rare, — “ I am 
not quite so wicked as you think me, Abigail. 
You will see how good I mean' to be now I am 
home again.” 

A little time later, and Heather’s face was 
buried in her pillow, choking sobs escaping her. 

“ Oh, Bluebell, you cannot love me as I love 
you ! Shall we never be together again ? It is 
like death itself! How shall I be able to 
bear it? ” 


/ 


t > 

4 ' M 1 












n r 



0 o i 


v . i ' ■ ; 


n ‘ !'f j: v • . 

iff > i ‘ - />*!in Or. ■:> 


■■t r t ; -i < 


i‘i - • . > *T';{] x 


’ > f 

< 9 t 




<• >h ][!■'! ; f ' ;; • 

.kiuMciA .on /hud.} ;<*y i\v>bC/ * -jfirn ton 

CHAPTER IX 


/ f 


. f r f . ' 


<d 


>L7/ 


THE VILLAGERS. 

Cdort.fr.'d I f>ru; onrrj :)U:r ! f 

“ Let it ever be thy pride 
To linger by the labourer’s side; 

With words of sympathy or song 

* I J- . ' l •' 

To cheer the dreary march along, 

■ 

Of the great army of the poor.” ' 

— Longfellow. 


T HE old servants hardly knew what to 
make of their young mistress the next 
morning. She came downstairs ap- 
parently in the best of spirits, but full of plans 
and innovations that sorely preplexed and dis- 
concerted them. 

She told Rachael she would in future like 
afternoon tea in the drawing-room every after- 
noon at five o’clock, dinner not a minute sooner 
than half-past seven; she uncovered the draw- 
ing-room chairs and couches, and tossed the 
Holland covers into the bottom of the linen 
cupboard ; she brought in flowering plants 
from the green-house, and disposed of them in 
every corner of the room. Calling the small 
boy into her service, she wheeled out the round 


no 


The Villagers 


i i i 


table into an empty bedroom, and by dint of 
banishing some articles of furniture and alter- 
ing others, had soon completely transformed 
the drawing-room. Abigail looked on in silent 
horror. This masterful young woman with 
bright careless smile and quick peremptory 
tones, was not the same girl that had trembled 
at her voice in bygone days ! Heather worked 
on indifferent to her frown, and directly' after 
her lunch walked down to the farm to see 
George Thatcher and his wife. For a good 
two hours she perambulated round the prem- 
ises, talking business matters over with the far- 
mer and jotting down in her note-book the re- 
pairs that were absolutely necessary, those 
that could wait, and the respective costs of 
each. 

“ Be you coinin' in to see the missus?” 
asked George shyly, after their talk was done. 
“ She do be expectin' to see you, miss.” 

“ Yes, I wil come.” 

And Heather followed him into a spotlessly 
clean kitchen. 

Annie, a fair gentle-faced young woman, 
rose up from some needlework with a blushing 
smile. >r / 

“ Eh, miss, 'tis nice to see yon here again.” 

“ Yes,” said Heather brightly as she shook 


I I 2 


Heather’s Mistress 


hands, and then stooped to kiss a bonny child 
of two years old playing at his mother’s feet. 

“ I feel as if I haven't been away so long 
after all. And yet when I see Tommy it does 
seem strange ; he was a baby in arms when I 
left”. ’ ■ 

“ How is Miss Bluebell ? ' Tis a disappoint- 
ment not to see her. Will she be coming home 
soon ” 

” Not just yet. She is going to Norway 
with some friends in a yacht. Well, Annie, 
how do you think I look? ” 

“ Beautiful, miss.” 

There was no mistaking the hearty admira- 
tion in Annie's face and tone. 

Heather laughed lightly, and George, who 
had swung his little son upon his shoulder, now 
turned and looked at her. 

“ We were hearing you went to see the 
Queen,” he said a little doubtfully. 

“ Yes, we had the honour of kissing her 
hand and making our courtesy to her.” 

“ There now,” broke in Annie, “ I knew it 
were true. Some said one thing and some 
another, and old Watty would have it that you 
must have a Lady before your name to go to 
Buckingham Palace. I says to him our young 
ladies are as high as any other ladies in the 


The Villagers 1 i 3 

land, though they have kept theirselv.es so quiet. 
And he was as obstinate as a donkey that the 
Queen's visitors were Duchesses and Conn- 
tesses and Lords and Ladies, no plain Misses 
could ever get near her. Did you have tea or 
dinner with her, miss? And how did she look? 
Did she ask you any questions? " 

Heather tried to explain. And her exper- 
ience at her first Drawing Room greatly raised 
her in the estimation of the farmer and his wife, 
though it all seemed very unreal and puzzling 
to them. 

She chatted on to them, and then as milking 
time came round, she took her leave and 
hastened homewards. 

Poor Heather ! She was making valiant 
struggles to so occupy her time that she would 
have no room for thought, but now as she was 
walking through the green meadows it all came 
back with a rush. 

“ I don't know how L shall be able to bear 
it," she murmured to herself, “ it seems so 
dreadful to be quite alone. Bluebell will be 
surrounded by friends ; I am without a soul to 
speak to. I feel inclined to fly back to them 
all, and yet I will not. It is my duty to stay 
here, and I will. And I will trv and be as 
cheerful as I can." 


Heather's Mistress 


1 14 

She returned to the house, found some pleas- 
ure in showing Abigail how to place tea in the 
drawing-room, and then took her solitary cup 
in state, thinking idly how much she would 
like to see the door open and some of her Lon- 
don friends and acquaintances appear. Half 
an hour after she was out again, this time 
wending her steps towards the village. She 
stopped first at a very small thatched cottage 
with a bright flower garden in front. She 
lifted the latch of the door quietly and went in. 

For a moment she thought that no one was in 
the tiny kitchen ; then from behind an old settle 
popped a bright-eyed little woman. Very old 
and feeble she looked, and for a minute she 
peered up in alarm at her visitor. This young 
lady in her dainty white dress and hat seemed 
a stranger. 

“Mary, don’t you know me? ” 

“ Ay, ay, bless your sweet voice ; it can’t be 
no other but Miss Heather! ” 

And here the old woman seized hold of the 

f f t * f ? 

delicately-gloved hands and tears dropped fast 
upon them. 

“I thought ye were swallowed up in the big 
town and had forgotten us altogether. Ay, my 
dear, ’tis good to see you again. Abigail has 
come in with my bit o’ money every Saturday, 


The Villagers 


IJ 5 

but she never seemed to have no tidings to tell 
of, leastways, not from you and Miss Bluebell. 
And 'twas only last Saturday she shakes her 
head and says, ‘ Ye mustn’t be surprised Mrs. 
Scrivens if ye gets no more siller for a bit. 
The young ladies are badly off, and times is 
not what they were, and maybe this is the last 
I can bring ye ! ' To be sure, when she’d gone 
ye could have knocked me down with a feather ! 
For ye know my past, Miss Heather, dear, how 
with six children and a husband that died when 
the eldest were but seven, and one little one a 
cripple, and the other lost his sight through 
blastin’, and one o' the girls takin’ consumma- 
tion and dwindlin' down to a skellikon and me 
givin’ of her a proper funeral, and then a 
helpin’ my own sister who come to sad want 
bein’ one who couldn’t help herself — well 1 
didn't put savin’s by, tweren’t to be expected, 
were it? And havin’ had the help from your 
dear grandmother so many years, my faith was 
rather took aback so to speak. 

“ 1 sat in the corner here, .and I thinks o' 
Li jah and the ravens, and then I asks my 

Father not to let me come to want, and I casts 
about in my mind what 1 could do without, and 

how I could earn a few pence. All this week 
F’ve give up my ha'porth o’ milk, and the bit o’ 


Heather’s Mistress 


i i 6 

meat I has on the Wednesday, and I’ve kept 
half the bit o’ drippin' Mrs. Styles from next 
door gives me, to go towards ilex' week. ’ Tis 
hard to be eckycomical with so little, but ’twas 
harder to tell old Ralph he might come to- 
morrow bein’ Saturday, and strip my bit o’ 
garden of all my bits o’ flowers and take ’em 
and sell ’em in the market. And then he tells 
me Abigail had brought him the same message, 
’and he and me had a good weep together, and 
then he said the Lord 'ud provide, and went 
away with a solemn shake o’ his head, and he’s 
goin' to try his cabbages in the market, but 
they be a poor lot, Ralph never was a gardener, 
he allays were so took up wi' books an such 
like." Old Mary stopped for breath. She had 
poured out her story with smiles and tears, and 
Heather felt a little choke in her throat as she 
thought of the luxury in which she had been 
living, and the contrast of her life with this one. 

“ You shall not want the money, Mary. I 
have brought it to you myself this afternoon. 

I did not think Abigail had told you of our 

•. « • 

difficulties, but she did not know last Saturday 
that I was coming home.” 

“Praise the Lord! Lie has not failed me. 
Now, Miss Heather, just you kneel down and 

f • 

let us thank Him for His goodness. Ay, I have 


The Villagers 117* 

been mistrustin' of Him, and He just brought 
you back to us Hisself when He knew we 
couldn't a get on without you! " 

Down on the uneven stone floor knelt 
Heather, with the little woman sniffing and 
ejaculating beside her, but it was not Heather's 
voice broke the silence that fell on them, she 
felt too humiliated and ashamed to utter a 
word : it was Mary who sobbed out her thanks- 
giving with many tears, and when they got up 
from their knees and the old woman poured 
forth blessings on her head. Heather rather 
sadlv hushed her. 

j • 

“I am ashamed you should have had a day's 
anxiety about it, Mary. I must go and see 
Ralph. Good-bye." 

She left her, after placing a little packet in 
her hand and found the old man at his garden 
gate reading the local newspaper. Ralph was 
rather a character. He prided himself upon his 
knowledge of the world and its ways. He 
would quote noted politicians in his talk, and 
even crowned heads, as if they were intimate 
friends of his own. His geography was vague, 
his history and all general knowledge was 
taken from the papers. The more ignorant of 
the villagers gaped with open mouths at his ut- 
terances when he had his paper in his hand. 


• 1 1 8 


Heather’s Mistress 


Without it he was as lost as a lame man with- 
out a stick, a short-sighted man without his 
spectacles ! 

“ Les us see now,” he would say with a wise 
shake of his head “what the young Emperor of 
Germany has been saying to his ministers last 
Friday. I misdoubted his wisdom in that affair 
in Chiny, but he allays has been too precipitous 
with his tongue. He minds me of his gran'- 
feyther in that affair of the war with the 
Frenchies. And here’s trouble again in Indy. 
Well, well, if there's fightin’ there 'twill have to 
be the sailors this time. There be all our 
soldiers wanted for Africa Lord Salisbury says, 
and they can’t be fightin' on two sides of our 
island to once ! " 

He looked up as Heather approached. 

“Good arternoon, miss," he cried joyously ; 
“well, there! I have a bin concerned about 
you ! Right glad to see ye ba.ck, miss, and ye 
be lookin' up foine too! Missis Abigail she be 
so close and mournful like at your Lunnon visit, 
that I has high words with her on the' subjec’ 
last time she were round. I sez to her — Missis, 
I sez — ‘ The voting birds allays leaves their 
nest. 'Tis the way of all nature, how else 
should they learn to fiy? ' I sez! ‘ And when 
they be took up by Her gracious Majesty, and 


ii 9 


The Villagers 

be brought to see her in the Palace/ I sez, ‘they 
that knows 'em ought to be that joyful, that 
they should have the honour of being invited, 
that they should be werry thankful they ever 

left their home/ I sez but ther, miss, my 

tongue do run on! I was a just calculatin’ 
from the paper what my bits o' vegetables 
might fetch in the market." 

“ Yes," said Heather hastily, “I have heard, 
Ralph, but you needn't be afraid your money 
will stop. Now I am home again I will see 
that it does not." 

The old man looked at her. 

“Then ’twas only Missus Abigail's croaks? 
Well, I do be truly thankful ! I never gives in, 
for ’tis a long lane that has no turnin’, and 
there’s many a slip ’twix the cup and the lip, 
but this mornin' I had a heerd how Mrs. 
Scrivens were a scrapin' together, and I felt 
if the choice lay betwixt my Paper and the 
House, well it must be the House I goes to, for 
a man is little better than a beast if he don’t 
know the news of the day ! " 

“Heather laughed, and stayed chatting to the 
old man for some time. They discussed poli- 
tics, and Pleatlier gave him many bits of infor- 
mation about London and its ways. Before 
she went, he asked her gravely : 


I 20 


Heather’s Mistress 


\ And has Miss Bluebell got a husband? We 
heerd tell so. And haven’t you a lover, miss? 
There allays are plenty dangling* about town 
they say." 

“No, I haven’t one yet, Ralph, neither has 

Miss Bluebell a husband! Now I must go 

Good-bye." 

* 

One more old friend she met on the wav 

j 

home, and this was Watty Clark the postman. 
He was striding along, his long white beard 
reaching to his waist, and the post bag swing- 
ing to and fro. He looked the picture of health 
and activity, though he had passed his Seventy- 
fifth year. His chief characteristic was a great 
belief in himself and utter disbelief in every one 
and everything else. It was he who had 
thrown a doubt on “our young ladies going to 
see the queen," and now he stopped to look 
rather queerly at Heather as she greeted him. 

“ Well, Watty, did you think. we were never 
coming back?" 

o 

“ Never," he said with a shake of his head, 
“and there’s only half of ye now without Miss 
Bluebell. I allays said she wouldn’t never come 
back, she were too fond of excitement and such 
like.” 

“Did you think better of me? " 

“ Ah well, I’ve heard say the reason, and I 


The Villagers 


i 2 i 


gives ye the credit of meaniir well, but ye 
won’t keep it up. T’isn’t to be expected ye will, 
and ye'll be pinin' for city life before many 
weeks be out! Lassies are the same all the 
world over. They be no good for hard grindin' 
work and duty, they just hitter butters by and 
takes the cream, and leaves the skim for them 
who ain’t so flightly as theirselves." 

“ Now if you are rude to me, I shall not come 
and see you, and bring you some medicine for 
your cough as I used to do." 

“ Are you going to start yer medicine shop 
agen, miss? " 

The old man's tone was eager. 

“ Yes," said Heather, “every Saturday 
morning I will see any one who comes up." 

“ Ah then. I'll bring up my wife’s nephew, 
Fred. He’s had gathering on his thumb, poor 
little chap, and maybe ye'll be able to do some- 
thin'. He's bin cryin’ out at nights latterly. 
Not that I has faith in doctorin'. Natur' is 
our best doctor, but the missus is whinin' over 
him, and I can’t abear to see women’s tears. I 
reckon she'll cheer up if she thinks you'll take 
him in hand, she's such a one for believin’ in 
everybody ! ” 

He passed on chuckling and muttering to 
himself, and Heather, now that she was alone, 


122 


Heather's Mistress 


lost her bright keen look, and wistful curves 
came to her lips. 

“ I must keep busy, that is the only thing; if 
only I need not think. But now I shall have a 
long, lonely evening and no one to speak to. If 
I feel it like this to-day when everything is so 
fresh, what shall I do in a few weeks’ time! 
Watty says I shan’t keep it up. Well, I am 
determined I shall. I shall brace myself for 
duty, and let pleasure go. After all I have had 
a good turn of enjoying myself. Now I will 
live for others, and leave myself out of the 
question. I must try and imagine I never had a 
sister, lots of girls live lonely lives, why should 
not I be able to do it ? Or just supposing Blue- 
bell were dead, how much more dreadful it 
would be ! ” 

Reasoning and philosophising thus, Heather 
reached home, and filled up the rest of her time 
that evening by writing a long letter to her 
absent sister. 

When she went to her room, she took up her 
Bible thoughtfully and commenced reading it, 
as she had not done for a long time. She had 
an uneasy feeling that her religion had not 
stood the test it had been subjected to. As she 

looked back and remembered the davs when she 

•/ • 

realised the love and nearness of God, she now 


The Villagers 


123 


seemed far away, and her heart was lifeless and 
cold. She read a chapter with difficulty. It 
seemed dreary and uninteresting; she knelt in 
prayef, but her thoughts wandered away to 
Bluebell. Yet when she got up, she thought to 
herself, “ I am sure I must be pleasing God by 
doing my duty and coming home/’ 

And feeling rather virtuous, and very miser- 
able, she crept into bed, sleep coming to her aid, 

1 

and taking her into its embrace very soon. 


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CHAPTER X 


A SUMMER LODGER. 

: :>( I Jr i i ' './• ‘ . 


JrH 


* 


* 


* 


* 

! : [ • ’ ( I < 

Produced a friendship, then begun, 

That has cemented us in one/’ — Coivper. 


< \ > 


s' r rrt 


• 7 IV. 


A transient visit intervening, 

And made almost without a meaning. 


'CM 

r? f 

i 


T HE next month dragged very heavily. 

Heather brought all her pride and 
pluck into requisition, and never be- 
trayed to those around how bitterly she be- 
wailed her lot in private. Abigail looked on 
and wondered. She saw her young mistress 
taking a keener interest in all that concerned 

the villagers than ever before. She was always 
ready with a laugh and jest, and her spirit and 

energy never seemed to flag. Yet Abigail 
knew well that she was not really happy. The 
old servant had keen sight, and there were hard 
strained lines round the young girl’s eyes that 
never used to be there. She watched her in 
silence. It had been a great shock to find how 
entirely her former rule was now cast lightly 

aside. Heather was always pleasant, but there 

124 


1 2 5 


A Summer Lodger 

. ■ "... 

was a reserve and dignity about her that for- 
bade any familiarity on the part of Abigail. 
She was mistress of the household, and showed 

every one that she meant to be treated as such. 

• • • - 

Abigail waited on her for the most part in 
silence, but her old heart was full of love and 
pity for the lonely girl. And as Heather 
seemed to increase rather than diminish the 

V f L . • . * ' ' 

distance between them, so did Abigail’s affec- 
tion rise proportionately. 

A few weeks after Heather’s return, she had 
visitors. 

A Lady Monteith, living about four miles 

off, came to call with her daughters. Heather 

; ■ ■ , ) ' 0 

had met some connexions of theirs in town, 
and she found to her amusement that she and 
Bluebell could no longer be buried in oblivion. 
Their season in town had made a great differ- 
ence in their social status, and the county fam- 
ilies who had ignored them before, now in- 
tended to stretch out a welcome to the bright 
young beauties of fashion. Lady Monteith 
was followed by others, and Heather was not 
surprised to receive soon the following letter 
from her cousin : — 

Li) l . I L f | i ' ; ■ ■ .1 • • ) l ' 1 . * . \ ) - ' i 

My dearest Heather,, — I am getting distinctly 
anxious about you, and though you have cast me off for 
a time, I will not yet disclaim all responsibility of your 


1 26 


Heather’s Mistress 


actions. How long are you going to be in the country? 
All the winter? Because, if so, I think you ought to 
have some worthy duenna living with you. Lady Mon- 
teith is talking about you, and you know what that 
means. If you weren't so good-looking it would not 

matter. But if the county is opening its arms to you, as 

■ 

I hear from her it intends doing, you must have some 
one to go about with you. I think I can find some one 
for you if you wish it ; but I know of old what a 
decided little person you are, so won’t do anything till I 
hear from you. I can’t offer to come and stay with you 
myself, for your worthy hand-maiden is too much for 
my temper. Hal sends love. He expects you back next 
spring, and says you will take London by storm. Cyril 
has gone off to a Scotch moor with a new friend of his, 
whom I fear and dislike. He is deeply religious, and 
you don’t suspect from his manners at first what traps 
he is laying for you. I fell into his clutches once, and 
keep a safe distance off now, I can assure you ! I sup- 
pose you hear from Bluebell ? I don’t, but I am told 
matters are proceeding very smoothly between her and 
Sir Herbert. >c 

f i i # • ■ • t tj f I .>!:!» : 

“ In haste, with love, your affectionate cousin, 

“ Ida.” 


. VjHfpO >fi ' 






Her answer was brief and to the point 




h 




“ My dear Ida, — Do not distress yourself about me. 
If I intended to continue my gay life in the country, 1 
should not have come. I may return a few calls, but 
beyond that I shall not mix in society. I have quite 
enough to do in attending to my home duties and the 
needs of our poor people to keep me occupied. I came 
home to retrench my expenses. That I am doing. With 

love, your affectionate cousin, 

.1 'in >f r • . - ■ 


' 11 Heather."' 


11 'f 


7 ; d : 






ff li 


::*»• if. 1 ‘>v t'),« // ' /(Km 


A Summer Lodger 127 

“ It sounds curt and cold, 1 ' she mused, as she 
read it over before sending off. “ But I fancy 
Cousin Ida is not so genial as she was. I can 
never forget what she has done for us, but I 
know she is vexed at my coming home, and 
disappointing some of her hopes. Her letter 
sounds uninterested. I have taken my choice, 

r 

and she will soon forget me, I expect." Per- 

* 

haps Heather judged harshly, but she was not 
far from the truth. Mrs. Carter was getting a 

r 

little tired of her chaperonage. Her views 
were that girls ought to become engaged in 
their first season. She had been gratified by 
her young cousin’s favourable impression upon 
society when first introduced, and their growing 

popularity had been very pleasant to witness. 

* 

But after a time she grew a little tired of her 
responsibility regarding their movements. She 
found them more difficult to manage, and when 
Heather explained her motives for returning 
home, she resented them, and chose to consider 
they cast a reflection on her superintendence of 

• f , - I ' * • * * r t * 

dress and expenditure. 

f t # > » • 

When she received Heather’s letter she 

* r i f 

tossed it across to her husband with a 
laugh. . ' 

“ She is a cool young woman, isn’t she? I 
cannot quite understand her. I think she has 


128 Heather’s Mistress 

a puritanical vein in her nature — hereditary, I 
suppose.” 

“She took to .town life very easily,” said 
Captain Carter. 

“ Like a duck takes to water! Well, I have 
relieved my conscience, and shall let her ‘gang 
her ain gait.' I only wrote because I was 
smarting from Lady Monteith's scathing com- 
ments on ‘girls of the present day, and the 
farce of chaperons.' I looked after her well as 
long as she was under my roof. She left it of 
her own accord, so I shall trouble no more 
about her.” 

A little later than this Heather was one day 
asked by George Thatcher if she would object 
to his wife taking in lodgers for a month or so. 
It appeared that a sister of his in service had 
written to ask him if he knew of any rooms in 
the neighborhood that would suit an invalid 
lady. Times were rather bad; Annie had two 
or three spare rooms, and would like to accom- 
modate the lady. “ But we weren't certain if 
you'd like it, miss. 'Tis your farm, and we 
wouldn’t do nothink to put you about.” 

Heather laughed. 

“ Of course I don’t object. Why should I? 
I envy the invalid such cosy quarters. I will 
come down and see Annie, and find out if I 


A Summer Lodger 


i 29 

can do anything to help her in this new 
venture." Which she accordingly did. In her 
quiet uneventful life even the advent of a sum- 
mer lodger brought interest and pleasure, and 
when the invalid finally arrived, Heather re- 
solved to go and call upon her. 

So one bright afternoon she set out for the 
farm. On- the way she passed Watty and old 
Ralph in the midst of an animated discourse. 
They were leaning over the old stone bridge 
which arched the river, and which was called 
by many “ The Idler’s Corner." 

“ Well, Watty," said Heather, as she came 
up to them, “Aren’t you supposed to be on your 
afternoon rounds? Have you any letters for 
me i 

“ Didn't I bring you three this mornin’, 
miss?" said Watty, not attempting to move. 

“ You couldn’t go for to expec’ any more to- 
day. We be havin' an argiment, Ralph and me, 
and he be such a one with his tongue that I 
can't get my innin's." 

“Ha, ha!" laughed Ralph cheerily, as he 
spread out his beloved paper before him. 
“ Well, Miss Heather, here be Watty shakitT 
his head over strangers a coinin’ to lodge to 
your farm. I sez the more we get the better it 
be for trade he sez importation of any sort rums 


130 Heather’s Mistress 

our country. I- sez we want our village to 
grow, he sez railways and telegraphs are a curse 
instead of a blessirf. I sez they brings work to 
hundreds, he sez increase o’ poppylation means 

increase o’ crime and taxes. I sez ” 

“ Oh, please stop/' said Heather, laughingly 
putting her hands to her ears. “ I never will 
discuss such questions. What does' it matter? 
If you waste your time much longer, Watty, 
you will get into trouble. Good afternoon ! I 

r 

am too busy to stay gossiping here/’ 

She left them, and as her light steps sped on 

* • r 1 

their way, Watty shook his head after her. 

“ She have taken up grand airs since she 
have a bin Lunnon, she rules as strong as a 
master, and it ought not to be ! Women be 
sadly failin’ off, in these wicked days, and 

f 1 • * • * 

everything be turnin’ topsy-turvy and inside 
out ! { • , } IK 

Heather reached the farm, and paused just 
before she went up the garden to look around 
her. The orchard close by was full of ripe and 
rosy fruit, the virginian creeper over the old 

• * r 

porch was in its scarlet mantle ; everything 
around seemed united in glowing gold and 

r 9 

crimson. The old-fashioned border that went 
right round the smooth grass plot, was full of 
bright dahlias, sunflowers, and hollyhocks, and 


A Summer Lodger i 3 i 

the foliage of the woods in the distance would 
have delighted any artist's eye, for every shade 
of gold to deep copper quivered in the autumn 
sunshine. Heather drew a deep breath as she 
gazed. 

“ There is nothing in London like this," she 
said, and then feeling soothed and comforted, 
she entered the house. 

She was shown at once into the best parlour, 
a pretty old room with large bay window over- 
looking the orchard. In an easy chair drawn 
up to the window was the invalid, and Heather, 
who had quite expected to see a fragile old lady, 
almost started at the contrast to her expecta- 
tion. Miss Vaughan was not a very young 
woman, but there was no sign of feebleness or 
of age about her, and Heather thought her face 
was the handsomest she had ever seen. Very 
dark eyes which flashed and glowed with in- 
tense feeling, rippling brown hair with hardly 
a streak of grey discernible, finely cut features, 
and a broad intellectual forehead, and lastly 
lips that parted in a most bewitching smile ; 
these were the points that Heather's quick 
glance took note of. 

She introduced herself very simply, and laid 
an exquisite bunch of tea-roses on the small 
table by the invalid’s side. 


Heather's Mistress 


132 

“ I thought you might like a few roses,” she 
said. “ It may be vain of me, but I never think 
any roses smell like ours! ” 

Miss Vaughan looked delighted. 

“ You have indeed given me a treat. I have 
heard a great deal about you, Miss Fother- 
ingay. Mrs. Thatcher has a great affection for 
you and your sister.” 

” She was one of our maids a few years ago. 
I hope she will make you comfortable.” 

“ I am quite sure she will. This is such a 
delicious contrast to my London lodgings.” 

“ Do you live in London? ” 

“ No, but I have been staying there for the 
last six months. Not a very bright time, for I 
went up for treatment, and have been in the 
doctor’s hands until now.” 

“ I hope you are better,” said Heather sym- 
pathetically. 

. 

Miss Vaughan answered brightly: “I am 

not worse, and I know now that nothing more 

can be done. Certainty is always preferable to 
doubt.” f-- V: ( 

Heather was silent. She did not like to ap- 
pear too inquisitive, but Miss Vaughan, after 
a glance at her, said frankly, “ It is my spine, 
I hurt it two years ago out hunting, and 
I have been living in the hopes of getting 


A Summer Lodger 


1 33 


about on my feet again. I have had the best 
advice, and know now that that can never be.” 

“How dreadful for you! How can you 
bear it? ” 

Such a glad light shone -out of Miss Vau- 
ghan’s speaking eyes. 

“ I don’t think I could have borne it two 
years ago, but I have had great happiness since 
I have been laid aside, and nothing seems to 
matter much now.” 

Heather looked at her enquiringly, and Miss 
Vaughan responded to her look. 

“ I only thought of earth and its pleasures 
before,” she said softly. “I have had my eyes 
and heart opened to such much more since.” 

Heather was silent, but there was a wistful 
look in her eyes, that Miss Vaughan noticed at 
once. 

“ Do you know my receipt for happiness? ” 
was the next question gently put. 

“ I ought to know it. Miss Vaughan. I 
thought I did once, but I dont know it now. 
It is all unreal and far away.” 

Encouraged by the sympathetic voice of 
the stranger, Heather was surprised afterwards 
to realise how fullv she confided to her the 

mf 

events of her life for the past few years. She 
did not say much about her inner feelings, but 


/ 


i 34 Heather’s Mistsess 

\ 

what was omitted, Miss Vaughan was able to 
fill in for herself. She had a very good idea of 
what the girl was passing through. 

“And now," said Heather, trying to 'speak 
gaily, “ I am settling into a quiet country life, 
and am trying to do my duty in every respect. 
If I had my sister with me I think I should be 
quite happy.” 

Then being a little afraid of Miss Vaughan’s 
probing her too deeply she deftly turned the 
subject. 

“ I am wondering how vou get about. Don’t 
you go out at all? Do you drive?” 

“ I am out a great deal. I have a wheel- 
chair, and I have brought my little attendant 
with me. He is a small ugly boy with a shock 
of red hair, but with the warmest heart imagin- 
able, and faithful to the last degree. I have 
sent him out to buy me some stamps. He 
wheels me out, and looks after me as an old 
nurse would. Can you tell me if there is good 
fishing in the neighborhood? ” 

“ Yes; our river is splendid for trout.” 

They talked a little longer, and then Heather 
took her leave, feeling keenly interested in this 
fresh comer. 




i 


4 - 




CHAPTER XI 

BROUGHT INTO LIGHT. 

“ Another called, another brought, dear Master, to Thp 
feet ! * 

Oh, where are words to tell the joy so wonderful and 
sweet ! 

******** 

“ Another called, another brought, dear Master, to Thy 
as King, 

And grateful love and glowing praise and willing service 
bring.” — F. R. Haver gal. 

A S days went on, Heather spent a good 
deal of her time at the farm, and lie- 
fore long had become fast friends 

with Miss Vaughan. 

One afternoon they were out of doors to- 
gether in a lovely nook by the river. Dick, the 
red-haired boy, was farther down the river, 
trying to catch fish for his mistress’s supper. 

“ I think,’ said Heather laughing, “if I had 
been a man I should have fallen in love with 
you at first sight, and by this time I should 
have proposed to you. Would you have had 
me, I wonder? ” 


J 35 


Heather’s Mistress 


1 3 6 

\ 

“ I am certain I should not," was the amused 
reply. Disparity of age would have been the 
chief obstacle.” 

” Oh you are not so very, very much older 
than I am.” 

Miss Vaughan rested her hand affectionately 
on Heather’s shoulder, as she reclined on the 
grass at her side. * . ! ; 

“ I am years older in ebperience, dear.” 

“ I feel I have had experience,” said Heather 
thoughtfully. Society life in London makes 
one grow old very quickly. I learnt more in 
one year about the world, and-— and people gen- 
erally, than 1 would have done if I had lived on 
here for twenty years.” 

“ And did the knowledge do you good? ” 

“ Perhaps not, and yet how I did enjoy it! 
Miss Vaughan don’t think better of me than I 
deserve. I did not leave society because I was 
sick of it. I would go back to it to-morrow 
with joy if I could with a clear conscience. If 
some one left me a fortune I would. I am 
fretting and chafing my heart out here in this 

narrow groove.” 

> . 

“ You conceal it very well.” 

r * • 

Heather laughed. 

“ I try to, of course. I should despise myself 


Brought into Light 137 

if I went crawling about and whining to every- 
body about my hard fate. And I am fond of 
our poor people. There are compensations. 
Still one is dreadfully cramped and stifled in 
such a life.” 

“ What must mine be, then? ” 

“Oh you are different/’ 

“ My dear child, I had ten years ot what you 
call ‘society life.’ I suppose I enjoyed it after 
my own fashion, but comparing it with my 
present one, I shiver at the narrowness, the 
• paucity, the emptiness of it all ! If you want 
width — breadth — depth — you will never have 
it in all that. It cramps and choaks the soul as 
nothing else does ! I can breathe now ; parts of 
me live that were lying dead or dormant, and 
isn't it ’a grand thing to be able to defy all cir- 
cumstances to mar or disturb your happiness 
and peace ! There ! I must not talk so much 
of myself and my feelings ! It is a way in- 
valids have ! ” 

Heather looked at the glowing eyes of her 
friend and sighed. 

“ I often wonder if my religion was real at 
all,” she said. “ I think Bluebell and I grew up 
in a Christain atmosphere, took everything for 

granted and just went through a routine of it. 

f r h ■ . - ; ; ■ ; u r. , n • ; 1 m h v fl f a, : 1 


Heather’s Mistress 


138 

i 

Yet I cannot remember the time when I did not 
realise that God loved me, was watching over 
me, and that I belonged to Him/’ 

0 4 > • i 

“ And when did ) r ou first lose the reality of it 
all?” . ' 

♦ * i I 

“I suppose in London. There seemed so 
little time for thinking about such things. We 
seemed in such a whirl. And I think when we 
found the things we had been brought up to 
consider as wicked, were what every nice per- 
son seemed to be doing, it shook our faith in 
what we had been taught. Abigail would tell 
you that we have ‘ fallen from grace.’ I hardly 
know where I am now. I try not to think of 
it.” 

Miss Vaughan looked at Heather with much 
interest. 

“ We have had a very different experience. 
Now I was brought up to be a success in so- 
ciety. I never had a serious thought till after 
my accident. Perhaps that is the reason why 
my happiness is so great now. I always had an 
uneasy feeling at the bottom of my heart that I 
was not ready to meet death. To look forward 
now and to be able to say with calm assurance, 
‘ I know whom I have believed, and am per- 
suaded that He is able to keep that which I have 
committed unto Him against that day,’ why it 


Brought into Light 1 39 

does indeed bring one a peace that is not of this 
world ! ” 

Heather sighed again, and said after a few 
minutes' silence : 

“ I have no love for God, I feel quite in- 
different. " 

“ No love for your Saviour? " 

“ I am afraid not much." 

“ Do you want to have love for Him? " 

“ I — I — don’t know. Yes, I think I do, but 
I have — to put it frankly — a fear if I were to 
become a very earnest Christian, I should think 
it right to give up all enjoyments of any kind, 
and I don’t want to do that.” 

“ You feel you haven't had your fill yet of 
this world's pleasures? ” 

“ Yes, Abigail's religion is such a hard and 
narrow one." 

“ Now, my dear Heather, don’t take your 
religion from Abigail. She has naturally, I 
expect, an austere, severe nature. I find that 
since I have given myself to God as His 
servant, I have tenfold more pleasure in life. 
Grasp the fact that God loves you and wants 
you to be happy. That He gives us this lovely 
country, the flowers, the birds, everything that 
sings His praises, that He is caring for us, 
shaping every circumstance for our good, and 


140 Heather’s Mistress 

t \ 

' , * t • # f * 

teaching and preparing us a little every day,' for 
our glorious future by-and-by ! If you can 
once believe this will you be able to go about in 

gloom and depression? And add to this the 

• < . 

wonderful fact of our redemption and the in- 

tense love of our Saviour for us, what ingrates 

we are, not to be bursting with praise all our 

lives long ! ” m j , r 

“ Oh, I wish 1 could feel as you do,” said 
* ^ * 
Heather wistfully. “ I think if I were really 

happy, I could be quite content not to go back 
to London again, but to live my life here. But 
I am restless and dissatisfied, and I find doing 
my duty every day is very irksome and dis- 
agreeable. Tell me how I can learn to love 
God as you do ? ” 

Miss Vaughan was silent for a few minutes, 
her usually bright face softened into solemn 
reverence. Then she said quickly — 

“ Do you like me, Heather? ” 

‘ k You know I do. I have never met any one 
before that I wanted so much to be my friend/’ 
“When you first heard I was coming to 
lodge here, you did’t care about me? ’ 

“ I did not know you.” ” 

“ I think, clear, that answer explains your 
lack of love for your Saviour; you do not know 
Him. Now how did you get to know me? ” 


Brought into Light 141, 

“ I came over to see you, we had talks to- 
gether, and every time I was with you I liked 
you better.” 

“ Exactly. Now the oftener you talk to 
Christ, the oftener you read His Word, His 
Life, His Sayings, the better you will get to 
know Him, the more you will love Him. And 
the first step towards loving Him comes when 
we gaze at Him on the Cross.” 

“ Go on,” said Heather breathlessly, '‘tell me 
more ! ” 

• • , ■ ■ \ • , i , 

“ Have you ever stood gazing up at the Cross 
like Christian, with his burden on his back? 
Have you ever realised your sins nailed Him 
there? Have you heard His cry of agony 
when your sins were laid on Him, ‘ My God, 
My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me ? 1 And 
then have you heard the cry of triumph, ‘ It is 
finished ? ' And have you cast yourself at His 
feet, in humble gratitude for the pardon He 
obtained for you then? ” 

Miss V aughan sank her voice to an impres- 
sive whisper. Heather shaded her eyes with 
her hand, and looked across the rippling water 
in front of her to the blue sky beyond. Her 
heart was stirred ; light was creeping in, as it 
had never done before. She was intensely still, 
and Miss Vaughan did not break the silence 


1 42 


Heather’s Mistress 


that fell on them both. She had the conscious- 
ness of a soul groping after its Redeemer, and 
would not by word or look thrust herself in 
between. 

And then after a long time Heather turned 

• » 

round, and with misty eyes silently kissed her 
friend. 

kk I am going home,” she said very quietly. 

ki I shall hope to see you to-morrow.” 

‘ 

Miss Vaughan let her go without a word, 
and sat in her chair silently praying for her, 
till Dick came up excitedly with a fair-sized 
trout, and claimed his mistress’s interest and 
attention for the time. 

Miss Vaughan was not surprised the next 
afternoon when Heather met her with a happy 
face. 

They talked long together of the subject up- 
permost in their minds. 

“ I never saw it so before,” said Heather 
softly. kk I don’t think I ever realised that I 
had part in the Crucifixion. I have been think- 
ing of it so much. Of course, all my life I have 
believed that Christ died for the sins of the 
whole world, but it never came home to me 
personally. I grew up trying to be good, but I 
never definitely took Him for my Saviour. 

f' f * / r • 1 t I * ! T 

Miss Vaughan, you have brought me into close 


Brought into Light 143 

touch with God at last, how can I thank you ! 
I think I hardly deserve to have come into the 

e f • : . 

light so suddenly. I wasn’t properly seeking. 
I was only wanting it in a half-hearted 


wav. 

(( 


'Of 




V:) 




The Shepherd goes out to seek His sheep 
before they are conscious of seeking Him,” 
responded Miss \ r aughan. “ You will find it 
make a great difference in your life, Heather.” 
“Indeed, I* shall. I seem almost over- 
whelmed with God’s goodness. I feel I shall 
never be unhappy again.” 

It was not long before Abigail was aware of 
the change in her young mistress. She found 
her one evening with her Bible on her knees 
marking some verses. Heather’s first natural 
instinct was to close her Bible at once upon 
Abigail’s approach. Though perfectly frank 
and open with Miss Vaughan, she could not 
conquer the reserve that had sprung up between 
herself and Abigail, but she thought better of 
it, and did not move her position. 

“ I’m glad to see you reading that blessed 
book,” was Abigail’s commetit. 

Heather looked up gravely. 

“ Yes,” she said, “ I hope I shall never 
neglect it again.” '* 

• » $ r 

“ Are you back in the fold, Miss Heather ? ” 


Heather’s Mistress 


1 44 

i 

“ I think I am, perhaps safer than I ever was 
before.” 

Abigail turned round and abruptly left the 
room, to Heather's great surprise. 

She would have been still more surprised if 
she had seen that good woman hasten down 
stairs and with radiant smile and streaming 
eyes fling open the kitchen door. 

“Rachael, give thanks with me. The Lord 
has answered my prayers. Miss Heather is 
restored to His favour! ” 

And Abigail's solemn rugged face seemed a 
good ten years younger for the next few 
days. 

Heather's friendship with Miss Vaughan, or 
“ Ena," as she had learnt to cal her, deepened 
day by day. Those days were intensely happy 
ones to her. She had been very lonely since 
she had left London. She could not even yet 
become reconciled to her separation from 
Bluebell, but her heart was satisfied as it had 
never been before, and the Christian life in- 
stead of a monotonous round of duty, seemed 
to be one flooded with sunshine. 

She said something of this sort to Ena one 
afternoon. 

“ Yes, I know," was the quick response. “ It 
is good to bask in the sunshine of God's great 


Brought into Light 145 

love, but, Heather, do not think there will 
never be any clouds in your life again." 

“ Have you experienced any? You do not 
look as if you have." 

Ena laughed a little, then she said earn- 
estly : 

j 

“ My experience has been this. I, like you, 
felt at first my heart and life flooded with 

* ’ 9 '~ 

sunshine, and wondered if it were possible that 
anything on earth could trouble me again. 
Very soon clouds came. Physical weakness 
and depression with me. I lost heart, and then 
was led to realise that the sun was shining 
still, and always would shine behind the cloud. 
So I waited, believing the cloud would pass. It 
did. I have had many ups and downs; and I 
think the lesson one gradually learns is that one 
will never find sunshine in oneself — only in our 
Master. He is always the same. Our feelings 
may rise and fall, but we can rest on His faith- 
fulness and unchangeableness, and this brings 
the settled brightness and peace into our souls. 
I wonder if I have explained myself clearly? I 
am not a very experienced Christian you know, 
but I seem to have learnt this." 

“It must have been dreadful when the doctor 

■ • , 1 j j * f • 

told you that you would never walk again," 
said Heather slowly, after a pause. “I don’t 


146 


Heather’s Mistress 


f 

think I could be as bright as you are if I knew I 
was doomed to be a perpetual invalid. ” 

“ Yes, you could,” replied Ena smiling. “ It 
was a black cloud at first, but I don’t feel it 
now. Religion is not real if it does not help 
you to rise above your circumstances.” 

Then Heather changed the subject. 

“ I have been wanting to ask you, Ena, if 
you will take pity on my loneliness, and leave 
your lodgings for a week or two. It would be 
so delightful for me if you were my visitor. I 
could give you a bedroom on the ground floor, 
and Dick could come to. You don’t know 
what miserable evenings I have. Of course, I 
have been happier lately, but I never shall get 
accustomed to living alone, it is dreadful ! I 
generally spend my evenings in writing to 
Bluebell, and I cry over my letters, and go to 
bed in the depths of woe. It is very foolish of 
me, but I have never been away from her be- 
fore. She is a bit of my life gone.” 

“ I do not think you should be alone. You 
are too young. 

“ That is what Cousin Ida says. She says I 
want a chaperon. Oh, Ena, will you come and 
act as one? I should love to have you. 


. 


■ • • , 


“ And what about my brother? ” 


MOV O 


Brought into Light 147 

“ I keep forgetting you have one. Isn't he 

always abroad ? ” 

* 

“ No, indeed. He has been in Scotland for 
the last, month, but I heard from him this 
morning, and he is coming down in a few 
days' time to see what my quarters are like, and 
how soon I shall return home.” 

, T r ' * • . n r . ( . .1 . \i ■ 11 1 • . i 1 1 1 . 1 

Heather's face fell. 

“ He doesn't want you as much as I do. Do 
you always live together ” 

“ Always. I don't know what I should do 
* 

without him. He has been so good, so patient 
with me since my accident. I should like you to 
know him, Heather. He is one of those people 
who say little but do much. His whole life has 
been one long sacrifice for others. I never talk 
about him much, for I cannot bear brothers and 
sisters singing each other's praises in public. 
But it is only since I have been lying on a sick 
bed that 1 seem to have had glimpses of what 
he has given up and missed for our sakes.” 

■“ I don’t think that is the way of most men,” 
said Heather slowly. 

kk No. I will tell you a little of our family 
life if you like. We were very well off as long 
as my father lived. When he died my mother 
and I had hardly enough to live upon. Ber- 


148 Heather’s Mistress 

tram was in the 9th Lancers. He was just 
made captain, and was going abroad. I must 
tell you my father had left him and my eldest 
brother Frank a very comfortable allowance, 
and this was rather a sore point with • my 
mother. The fact was the investment that my 
father hoped would bring in a good bit to my 
mother failed almost directly after his death. 

i 

If was not his fault. Frank married at once, 

p * . <► * » , 

and went out to Australia. Bertram wrote to 
him to suggest that they should both make my 

1 * f 

mother a small allowance, and so enable her to 

j- 

have the same comforts she had always been 

t r 

accustomed to. He wrote back saying that as 
he was a married man this was impossible. 
Then Bertram after much thought left his regi- 
ment and exchanged into the line. He felt this 
very keenly, but he did it without saying a 
word to us, for he could not afford to give my 
mother so much if he stayed on in the cavalry. 
I was just leaving school then, and I am afraid, 
wishing to please me, and give me a good time, 
my mother moved to London, and we soon 
were in the midst of a lot of gaiety, and conse- 
quently spent a good deal of money. Bertram 
came to our rescue more than once, but the 
more he gave us the easier it seemed to us to 
spend, and we had no idea how rigidly he w r as 


Brought into Light 149 

♦ 

denying himself. I heard through a girl then 
that he had been very nearly engaged to the 
Colonel’s daughter in the 9th Lancers, but 
when he left the regiment he lost her as well. 
I remember wondering why he had done it. Of 
course, I did not understand then what I do 
now. My mother died rather suddenly, when 
we were staying abroad, and then I w r rote to 
Bertram asking him what I had better do. He 
came out and brought me back, and then told 
me that he could not bear the idea of barrack 
life for me, so he had resolved to leave the Ser- 
vice. If I could be content with a country life, 
and an occasional visit to town, he would take 
the offer he had of an old priory that belonged 
to a cousin of ours, and farm his own land. It 
would give him occupation, and we could live 
very comfortably together. I was delighted at 
the idea, and we have lived there ever since. 
He gave me every comfort, and till I met with 
this accident, I used to hunt four days in every 
week in the season, and enjoyed myself im- 
mensely. But I see now how all my life I have 
been taking from him and giving nothing in 
return. Of course, I tell you this in the great- 
est confidence. I think we are very happy to- 
gether. But he has still anxieties about money 
matters. My brother Frank seems in continual 


I co Heather’s Mistress , _ _ 

trouble. He helps him a great deal. Now 
don’t you see, dear, that I cannot leave him? 
Doesn’t this make you understand how 
strongly I feel that my home is with him? 

“ I suppose so,” said Heather, with a sigh. 
Still you could come to me for a short visit, 
could vou not ? ” 

j 

“ Perhaps I could do that. I will talk it over 
when he comes.” 

•K!. ,v>; ! pm Jd^rjo id bm-| iuo ■■ifr-v* 

v I . , , , , . f V r * . . / , „ i ■ i r 

si / i , . i; • ni ‘ i ■ r Vi ' • - ' r i’-.i 

5 r.*j )]')■ o 1 j : .v.ii / 

% '■ I . : r ' <n *;t - f r .< i i . y b'ttoiair.o* > n r . .ij-' 

V '‘tV '] ■ J -iU I i . ; , ' >Jid 4 ) r i 
• : ! d , 1 c , ru ; <.n r 

l h inn yn bn, a nroiP ;utjo mid :{>ip ■ ■ 

' . . : • : ■ i j ; * J 

.*> • u • «' jo .• o'] -.a j ' y 1 i ‘ii i>::: form. odt 

■ ; f i I • Ii} < o : mm rvrr- r : • • * i 

v'Vj .• . • j r : Vf : ;d «.>J b: /i J no{; ; ■/*. ; 

■ vu 1 >var m ! y u; . r ' m >?. .nil . m 


CHAPTER XII 




A FISHERMAN 

“ He was a man of honour, of noble and generous na- 
ture.” — Longfellozv. 

H EATHER had been visiting in the vil- 
lage. She had just come out of 
Mary Scrivens’ cottage, where she 
had been reading to her; for the poor old wo- 
man was confined to her bed with a bad cold. 
She was making her way across' to the village 
post-office to get some stamps, when she was 
stopped by old Ralph, who was talking very 
eagerly to a stranger. “ Here be our young 
leddy,-sir. She can tell you if she don’t agree 
with me, for she’s bin to Court herself, and 
knows the ways of Royalty! ” 

Heather looked up amused, and met the 
glance of a tall man in fisherman’s garb, his 
basket slung over his shoulder and rod in his 
hand. 

“ What is it, Ralph?” asked Heather, 
lightly. “ You are not going to draw me into 
a political discussion, are you?” 

I 5 I 



* 5 2 


Heather’s Mistress 


The stranger raised his hat, and Heather 
acknowledged it with a dignified little bow. 
She knew how little these old villagers stood on 
ceremony with any one. Strangers were few 
and far between; they saw no reason why 
“ their young leddy ” should not “ pess the 
time of day ” with a stranger, as well as with 
any of them. Ralph began at once : 

“ Me and this gent has been discussin’ the 
clack and fightin’ that is just goin’ on in the 
French assembly. I sez it is all for want of a 
king to keep ’em in order. He sez a president 
be just as good, but I sticks to what I sez ! The 
countries go to the dogs where there ain’t no 
kings or queens! 'Tis natural, like. Every one 
for their selves, and all wantin' to climb over 
each other’s heads ! He sez Americky is a 
grand country. I sez it allays has the biggest 
calamities that ever befalls a nation! The 
earthquakes, and floods, and fires, all gives it a 
turn, as if God Almighty shows His disap- 
proval. And, in course, he made the first king 
— He didn’t make a president or a parliament. 
I b’lieve, now I come to think on't, He tried 
judges, but they turned out a bad sort, and 'tis 
kings and queens the Almighty ordains to 
reign.” 

“ We are very loyal in this part of the coun- 


A Fisherman 


1 53 

try," said Heather, looking* at the fisherman 
with a smile. 

u So I perceive. I wonder if you can give 
me the information I was trying to obtain from 
our good friend here, before we touched on 
politics. I want to know if there is a cart track 
to Willow Pool, which, I am told, is the best 
spot for trout. They say there is no road, but 
would it be possible for a wheel-chair to get 
there ? ” ■ 

A light came into Heather's eyes. 

“I think you must be Captain Vaughan?" 
she said ; and on receiving an assent, she added : 
“ There is only one locked gate at the end of 
the large meadow, and I can get you the key 
of that, for it belongs to us. I hope Miss 
Vaughan may be able to go with you. Ralph, 
where is Ted Hind? " 

Ralph folded up his paper leisurely, and put 
it in his pocket. 

“ Maybe he’s gone to market. Maybe he’s 
in the Dragon’s Arms." 

“ Will you step across and ask his wife to 
give you the key of the water meadow gate? 
And then bring it to this gentleman." 

“ Maybe she’s out in the fields." 

Heather looked at the unwilling old man 
rather sternly. 


x 54 


Heather’s Mistress 


“ Ralph, you do nothing all day but read 
your paper and gossip to everybody you see. 
Don’t be disagreeable, but do what I ask you.” 
Ay, Miss Heather, ’tis all very well, but 
you've interrupted an important discussion, 
and my old legs don’t work so easy like my 
tongue.” 

“ It is a mercy they don't,” said Heather, 
severely. 

• Captain Vaughan looked on with a twinkle 
in his eye. He was a good-looking man, with 
rather rugged features, his moustache and hair 
just tinged with gray, and a humorous kindly 
look in his blue eyes. “ I am much obliged to 
y?%’ lie said, turning to Heather, who was 
‘just moving away; “ I will go myself to get the 
key. My sister, as you know, has not many 
opportunities of getting about, and it will be a 
great pleasure to her, if she can accompany 
me.” 

“ I am sure it will,” said Heather warmly, 
“ and I am so glad she has you to look after 
her. Please give her mv love.” 

They parted, and Heather went into the post- 
office. Mrs. Carpenter, who kept it, was a busy 
talkative little woman. She had been a widow 
for twenty years, and was supposed to have 
saved a good bit of money. 


A Fisherman 


1 55 


“ Well, Miss Heather, and what may you 
think of the Captin ’ ? I have seed you a-makin’ 
acquaintance with one another. Have he come 
a long while to stay? ’Tis a new thing — vis- 
itors a-comin’ to this part o’ the world. But so 
long as they pays their way they be welcome. 
Do you know anythin' of their fam’ly? They 
seem the gentry, judgin’ from the quantity of 
letters that do come and go! ” 

“ I don’t think we need be alarmed, Mrs. 
Carpenter. They are most respectable, I be- 
lieve. Now, I want half-a-crown's worth of 
stamps, please, for I am in a hurry.” 

“ You’re a good customer, Miss Heather. 
Time you was away, I was dreadful slack ! But 
it seems to me you write more letters to Miss 
Bluebell than she do to you ! When be she 
cornin’ back? That Norway that be on her 
letters be close to the North Pole, Ralph were 
tellin’ me. She must be dreadful cold. Is it 

all Polar bears and ice? ” 

« r 

Heather could not get away from the old 
woman very quickly ; but when she did she 
found herself walking home with her thoughts 
full of Ena and her brother. 

“ He is not a bit as I thought he would be. 
I pictured a grave, sad man. Life does not 
seem to have gone hardly with him. He does 


Heather’s Mistress 


156 

not look like a self-sacrificing hero at all. I 
know Ena thinks him very good. He does not 

show it in his appearance. But, then, neither 

» 

does she. And I much prefer people who are 
perfectly natural, and don’t look as if they were 
always mourning for their sins. Poor Abigail 
does not recommend her Christianity, and yet I 

daresay if she were not a Christian she would 

. . * • 

be ten times more severe. How 1 envy Ena go- 
ing across to Willow Pool. I wish. they had 
asked me. I shall miss my afternoon talks with 
her, but she won’t want me while her brother is 
here.” 

A sigh followed, and Heather felt more than 
usually lonely for the rest of that day. 

Captain Vaughan obtained the key, and 
hastened back to his sister. 

“ Now then, Dick; ” he shouted, “ bring the 
chair round. We must be off at once.” 

Dick grinned in pleased anticipation of an 
outing, as he tenderly assisted his mistress into 
her chair. He was a little bit of a character in 
his small way. Like an old woman for thought- 
fulness and patient devotion, he attended on 
Ena as well as any trained nurse could have 
done. His manner to outsiders was at all times 
a trifle supercilious. “ My family, my lady, my 
sitivation,” were quoted constantly, and no 


A Fisherman 


1 57 

one's opinions or wishes were consulted in the 

t # . 

least before his mistress’s. 

He had not been two days at the farm before 
he marched into Annie’s kitchen: 

“ Here, missis/’ he said, his small nose well 
in the air, “ we can’t stand this state o’ things. 

Them filthy pigs are a-gruntin’ and a-walkin’ 

» < 

past my lady’s window, and are distractin’ her 
hobservation from the view. They must be got 
rid of missis, at once. Pigs is meant to be kept 
out o’ sight, and certingly not to be marched 
past a lady’s window all the mornin’ ! ” 

Obliging Annie felt a great awe of this small 

boy, and promised that the pigs should be kept 

* * 

away ; but when it came to the fowls being ta- 
booed Jhe orchard, she went to Ena in per- 
turbation of mind, which was at once set at rest 
by that lady. Dick was called in, and admon- 
ished; but whenever he could get a chance of 
administering a snub to the farmer’s wife, he 

♦ • i _ 

quickly made use of it. 

“ I think I have seen your young friend, Ena, 
said Captain Vaughan, as he leisurely walked 
by her chair across the green meadows smok- 
ing his pipe. 

“ Have vou? where? ’’ 

t $ * • . 9 

“ In the village. It was she who told me of 
the locked gate, and got me this key.” 


Heather’s Mistress 


158 


“ And what did you think of her? ” 

“ She seemed a nice little girl/’ 

His tone was indifferent. 

“ She is a dear child," said Ena, warmly. “ It 
is not many girls who would give up a society 
life in town, and come and live alone in the 
country, because the poor people needed her 


care. 




‘>'0 


n 


“ A healthier life for her," said her brother. 
“ I should not think there need be much self- 
denial in it ! " 

“ Ah, but you don't know her circumstances. 
She has a twin sister from whom she has never 
been separated before. It was a terrible wrench. 
The sister would not come with her." 

‘ • . - * * 7 1 I # j n } * i > / / . 

“ I suppose it was a question of Princi- 
pe ^ • • : / » i . ' ‘ 

“ Yes — or, rather, of duty. She was spend- 
ing too much money, she told me, and if she 
had not come home, their charities here would 
have had to be stopped. It was very noble of 
her, I think, for she had no better motive to 
assist her, and was enjoying her life immensely. 
She wants me to stay with her a short time be- 
fore I leave. What do you think?,/? 

i 

“ Just as you like. I expected you to return 
with me, but if you're happy and well here, it 
would be a pity tp, leave." , 




J 1 1 j 


A Fisherman 


1 59 


Ena looked at him a little wistfullv, then she 
said with her bright laugh : 

“ I wish you would say sometimes that you 
miss me, Bertram. A woman loves to feel 
herself of 'importance. And though I am such 
a useless appendage to your household, I am 
company, am I not? 

“ That you are,” he said quietly. 

There was silence for a few minutes; then 
he said with a humorous gleam in his eye that 
his sister so loved to see : 

“ You do not make such quick friendships as 
a rule. What is the fascination about this 
young person ? ” 


• 1 : f 




“ I can’t tell you. I took an interest in her 
from the very first, before I saw her. My land- 
lady was full of ‘ the yoilng ladies,’ and k Miss 
Heather’s wonderful business head.’ She su- 
perintends all the business of the farm, and the 
farmer looks upon her decisions with the great- 
est respect. It is such a lonely life for a young 
girl. And she is so brave and natural about it. 
I like to see her little regal ways with the vil- 
lagers; she comes to me like a sweet, fresh sun- 
beam, and if you really get into deep conversa- 
tion with her, you would be astonished at her 
powers of thought. Then, too, lately; well, I 
think I have helped her by my own experience 


Heather’s Mistress 


1 60 

these past two years. She was dazed and be- 
wildered between the fashionable religion of a 
London Society and the austere and puritan be- 
lief of her two old servants, who are Quakers 
by persuasion.” 

“ And how long do you propose to stay with 
her?” 

” I thought perhaps a fortnight. This air 
seems to give me fresh life after London.” 

" But the Priory is not London.” 

“ No, and I am longing to be home again, 
and settle down quietly for the winter.” 

“ Well, extend your stay to the fortnight 
then. I have to go up to town, so it will suit 
me just as well to go now.” 

Heather was pleased the next day to receive 
a little note of invitation to tea at the farm. 
She went and found that Captain Vaughan's 
being there did not diminish her enjoyment of 
her friend’s society, though she had a feeling 
that he was only kindly tolerant of her pres- 
ence. 

“ The natives of this part are a constant en- 
tertainment,” Captain Vaughan said presently. 
“ The old postman told me this morning that 
he had lived for fifty years in one house, and 
considered that the bulk of his neighbors had 
very little good in them at all, but that outside 


A Fisherman 


1 6 1 


Thornlea Vale, they were absolutely and en- 
tirely evil;" 

” That is Watty,” said Heather smiling. 
“ He has had a sad life. He was brought up 
by a drunken stepmother, and was engaged to 
be married for ten years' to a girl who jilted 
him in the end.” 

“ Could not wait any longer? ” 

“ Yes, and I hardly wonder, Watty will 
never hurry himself. However, he is married 
now to a very nice woman. He is a pessimist, 
and glories in it. He does not approve of you 
coming here at all, and told Mrs. Carpenter at 
the post-dffice that all diseases and crimes were 
introduced into country villages bv wavside 
lodgers.” 

Ena’s rippling laugh rang out. 

“ Dick came back from the post-office pur- 
ple in the face yesterday. He said he had been 
giving information to ignorant folks as to the 

. r • 

wavs and hideas of their betters. Can t you 

r r t j f » * * * i i t 

fancy him holding forth, Bertram? ” 

“ I back him to hold his own anywhere, 
young scamp ! 

“ Of course, I know the narrowness and 
bigotry of our village strikes every outsider,” 
said Heather, thoughtfully. “ But after life in 
town, it is very refreshing to return to. We 


Heather's Mistress 


162 


are like one big family here. Our interests, 
our doings and sayings, are all important to 
every one. I am always sure of sympathy if 
my usual letter from Bluebell does not come, 
from at least three or four of the villagers. In 
London it struck me when first I went there, 
how far divided the classes were. How unin- 
terested everybody was. I think if I were to 
be doomed to a lonely life, I would live it in 
the country and not in the town." 

“ It is bad training," said Captain Vaughan, 
with a comical shake of his head. “We need 
to find our own level and not be exalted into 
little popes, whose every word is of importance. 
Of all dogmatic, obstinate, narrow-minded 
beings on the face of the earth, give me a coun- 
try squire!” , • 

“ No, no," cried Heather, “ I will not have 
you abuse us country folk. I found the men in 
town infinitely more self-satisfied and egotisti- 
cal than any I had seen near home. Of course," 
she added truthfully, “ I have not seen very 
many in this part, but everybody in town gets 
to look and talk a*s if it is too much trouble to 
breathe, and they are great martyrs because 
they have to do it.” , , 

*■' f. 

“The best specimens of manhood do not 


A Fisherman i 6 3 

frequent London drawing-rooms,” said Cap- 
tain Vaughan, drily. 

“ Now I will not have either of you begin 
running down our neighbors/’ said Ena 
briskly. “ We will change the conversation. 
Let us remember we are in the country, and 
choose a fresh and breezy topic.” 

Heather returned home that evening with a 


flush on her cheek and light in her eye. Ena 

had consented to come 

and pay her a visit. 

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'’V • >‘j(t 'if/ •gmnfrr 

y . , CHAPTER XIII •• • , . 

• ' .• ! t . ' /i • 1 ' f 

lunrrr ^rj it). I 

f ; i; *>• iC «f V 

h 


i » * 


BLUEBELL S RETURN 


He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace 

• 4 ► • f ' • ’ ■ r 

in his home.” — Goethe . ' ‘ ■ 


'ion 


nr? : muo oJ notir- 


C APTAIN VAUGHAN only stayed with 
his sister for a week. Heather was a 
little afraid of him. He was apt to be 
quietly sarcastic, and his eyes seemed to note 
everything — not a thing escaped his keen' obser- 
vation. Yet his sharpest speeches were always 
given with a kindly look in his eyes, and he 
had a fund of keen humour which made him a 
most entertaining companion. When he left, 
Ena true to her promise, came to stay with 
Heather. 

Abigail was rather doubtful of these new- 
comers, but Heather ruled the old servants now r 
with fearless firmness, and after a few days, 
Abigail’s stern heart was quite won by Ena’s 
sweet good-nature. 

As the two old servants heard the merry talk 

and laughter proceeding from the drawing- 

164 


Bluebell’s Return 


room in the evening', Abigail, instead of shak- 
ing h*er head, would grimly, smile : 

“ Ay, ’tis not the unholy mirth that Mrs. 
Carter brought with her. That was the crack- 

*•» ' •' • ■ ° 1 • ! . I ■ ’ / i I , M ■ i 

ling* of thorns under the pot. Miss Vaughan 
is a Christian woman, and ’tis she I find that 

• . ■ j! • - • , . ; ; t 

has helped Miss Heather so. One likes to hear 
vioces about, I've felt sorry for the poor child. 
And as to Miss Bluebell, I fear she’s entirely 

i 1 j j > ■ f t jy i j t f ~ j'lii / ; id I ■ 1 j i , ,i mh ^ 

lost to us and to all that’s right. She seems 
sucked into the giddy stream of worldly 
gaietv ! ” 

The fortnight soon slipped away. And one 

afternoon Heather returned to her home after 

: - _ ■ ■ . * C >•■■■[’ 

bidding farewell to her friend. She felt doubly 

p 

lonely now, and needed all her spirit to keep 


i'll 


her from being depressed. But she was daily 
learning lessons from a master who was be- 
coming very near and dear to her, and though 
not always able to see bright sunshine, was able 
to draw all the comfort and strength she needed 
for, her daily life from above. 

' / ; *0 H ’ i?7 . ; : . • 

“ It is a test now of how much I lean upon 
the Lord,” she would say to herself; and the 
old servants never missed her bright smile and 

' 1 * • • - • " ; ; t ' n 

tones. 


i 


Ouickly and steadily, Heather was seeking 

J ? . . f 

to influence the villagers she visited for good. 

o . o 

• * 1 * > » * J i ij ill r- J J ; ft i M i 


Heather’s Mistress 


1 66 

It was no unusual thing for her to read a^ few 
verses from her little Bible that she carried 
about with her, or have a few words of prayer 
with those who were sick, or in trouble. And 
she found that in seeking to help and comfort 
others she obtained help and comfort herself. 

It was late autumn now ; the days were 
drawing in, and the weather became damp and 
cold. Storms of wind and rain swept round 
the house, the leaves from the old elms lay on 
the ground sodden with the wet, and the 
canaries instead of brightening the house with 
their song, crouched on their perches with ruf- 
fled feathers and disconsolate gaze. 

Heather tried hard to keep cheerful. She 
had learnt the secret of being always busy 
when she felt particularly lonely, but one wet 
afternoon, she laid down a book she had been 
reading, and abandoned herself to her 
thoughts. She seemed to see again that wet 
afternoon when she came in from her walk and 
found Bluebell reading “ Ivanhoe " by the 
dining-room fire. How long ago it seemed! 
How differently she viewed life now, since that 
first burst of longing to see the world and 
widen her circle ; wrapped in her thoughts she 
did not hear a fly drive up to the door, nor steps 
and voices in the hall. But in a moment the 


Bluebell’s Return 167 

door opened, and Bluebell flung herself into her 
arms. 

“I have come back, Heather! I can’t live 
without you ! I’m tired of them all and have 
come home ! ” The sisters embraced each other 
divided between tears and laughter ; and it was 
some time before Bluebell could calm herself 
sufficiently to tell her story. 

After a cup of tea which Abigail brought in 
with a dazed bewildered face, Bluebell began 
at once : 

“ Oh, how good it is to be with you again! 
I’ve longed to say things in my letters and then 
I felt I couldn't. I am afraid Cousin Ida is 
awfully vexed with me. Her last words were, 
‘ You have both thoroughly disappointed me! ’ 
The fact is, Heather, I can't stand Sir Herbert ! 
I used to fancy I was in love with him, but I 
never was quite sure. And our yachting trip 
settled it. By the time we had had a month of 
it, I was perfectly sick of him ! Bored to death 
with his promises ! He is as dull as ditchwater, 
and it would be dreadful to live with a husband 
who could never see or make a joke! Now 
wouldn't it? I’ve simply run away from him; 
I sent him a note last night to say how sorry 1 
was, but that I was sure we should never suit 
each other. You know I’ve been with Cousin 


1 68 Heather’s Mistress 

V U X JO j i !. ./Vi Jl j i 

Ida for a fortnight. Well, he has come round 

* i 

to the house every single day after me. I 
couldn't really stand it. Cousin Hal said he 
would be a good antidote to me. I told him it 
takes a fool to be always content with his own 
jokes. Oh, may I never see another serious 
man as long as I live ! I am tired to death with 
his dullness and gravity. And so I thought the 
best thing I could do, was. to come, straight 
home to you. I will stay in seclusion till all 
unpleasantness is over, and people will have 
found something else to talk about, r Do you 
think me heartless, Heather? I am sorry for 
him. I think I have treated him shamefully, 
but isn’t it better to stop now, than go on pre- 
tending I care for him until it is too late to draw 
back? Oh, do comfort me, for I'm perfectly 
miserable ! " 

* * , j • i i .. • J * i. \ J 1 > 1 ■ i * ) 

Here Bluebell broke down and burst into 
floods of tears, and Heather was too glad and 
thankful to have her back again to scold her. 
She petted and caressed and sympathised with 
her, and by the time dinner came round, Blue- 
bell had quite recovered her flow of high spir- 
its and was making Heather laugh at her naive 
accounts of the yachting trip. 

She tripped down to dinner in a pale-blue 
silk dress, looking as fresh as a rose, and when 


Bluebell’s Return i6o 

' lti i U«-/ I 1 /. 


she caught Abigail's disapproving eye in the 
hall, she danced up to her. 

1 i » * 4 - • I ■ ' 

“ Well, Abigail, aren’t you Had to see me 
back again? Have you nor welcome for me? 
For shame ! Heather is the .only one who is 
really delighted to see me. - 

“ What have you come back for. Miss Blue- 
bell ? ” asked Abigail, severely. 

“ Why did Heather come back? Is thatdiow 
you greeted her ? What a dismal time she must 


have had. Now Abigail you must be nice. I’m 
going to alarm you with my goodness. I have 
seen the error of my ways. That is why I 
have come back, of course ! Can’t you give me 
a tiny smile? Don’t you like the idea of haying 
both of us in your power for a little while? ” 

‘‘You have grown out of my power, Miss 

* • 


Bluebell, and you know it ! More’s the pity ! 
I would fain see you in a more modest dress, 
and with a more sober demeanor! ” 

■Vi > " I ' ' ' ' )T f H J Jli" , . . ' ‘ 1 . )/•.]) i 1 i ‘ )t].‘ ! 

“What is the matter with my dress? 
Heather is in a white one. Oh, you don’t like 
to see so much of my neck, do you ? Well, don’t 
look, then. And as to a sober demeanor, I 
wasn’t born with one, Abigail, and you know I 
wasn’t ! ” - \ • ,» . .. / - 


She left her, and joined Heather in the din- 
ing-room with a radiant face. 

© 


170 


Heather’s Mistress 


“ It is good to be at home again/ 1 she said; 
“ and how you’ve improved the house, Heather ! 
But there is a great deal more to be done. We 
must get some fresh carpets and chintz for the 
drawing-room, and have several of the rooms 
repapered. I shall enjoy doing it. It will give 
me something to do.” 

“ But, Bluebell, we have no money to spare 

for that kind of thing. I have hardly got 

» > 

things straight yet.” 

“ Don’t remind me of money. I shall have 
to borrow from you to pay my dressmaker's 
last bill. She is bothering me continually about 
it. Why can’t every one have enough and to 
spare, I wonder ! ” 

Heather looked at her sistei* gravely. She 
saw she was talking recklessly to conceal her 
true feelings, and was sorry that Abigail, who 
was in the room, should hear her talk so. But 
Bluebell did not care. She chatted on, as if she 
had not a care or thought beyond herself and 
her own concerns, and Abigail left them at 
their dessert with a sore and anxious heart. 

“ She has come back as frivolous and empty- 
headed as Mrs. Carter," she confided to Rach- 
ael. “ Ay, ’tis sad to be her! I could sit down 

: - 1 ■ ; f t _ r 

and weep. She'll be for trying to entice Miss 
Heather up to London soon again, that is what 


f l r 1 

Bluebell’s Return lyt 

I fear. And she talks of her debts as gaily as 
if it was the usual thing to buy things and have 
no money to pay for them ! ” 

The twins had much to talk over, but it was 

* f ■ 

not until they were upstairs in their bedroom 
over their fire that Bluebell began to soften. 
She looked at Heather’s Bible dreamily. 

“ Have you really become good, Heather? I 
couldn't quite understand from your letters?” 
“ No,” said Heather smiling, “ I am afraid 
I haven't. I should like to. I will tell you about 
it some other time. You look tired and sleepy. 
I have found that real religion makes you very 
happy. That is all I will say to-night.” 

“ Do you remember Abigail’s text,” said 
Bluebell, gazing into the fire thoughtfully. 
“ ‘ She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she 
liveth ' ? It has come true in my case. I have 
lived in pleasure, and my soul is perfectly 
dead ! ” 

“ Oh, Bluebell, don’t say such shocking 
things ! ” 

“ But it is true. I never read my Bible. 
Prayer is just an empty form to me. I have 
really no religion except going to church on 
Sunday. I went out for a walk with Cousin 
Cyril yesterday. He has been away, and came 
in for the first time. He asked me how mv 


172 


Heather’s Mistress 


religion was getting on. He always asks that 
question, periodically, if you remember. I told 
him it had left me entirely. He was silent for a 
whole minute [ Then, what do you think he 
said! ‘ Fve been with a fellow lately who has. 

. ■ . rt f . 1 * j > < 1 1 j r t j j t • 

the real article, and I'm more than half inclined 

■ * 1 \/J lKu ii -J/' I «rj v * J Hid j * t Li^llj H/VO 

to trv for it myself!’”, • • , , t 

“ That does not sound like Cyril," said 
Heathei , softly . • y » j 

Bluebell looked at her quickly. Then she left 
her chair, and seating* herself on the floor be- 
side her sister, she leant her head against her 
knees. After a pause she. said quietly: 
Heather, tell me,, has there eyer been any- 
thing* between Cyril and you? ” 

Between Cyril and me! " Heather repeated 
in astonishment, “ why, of course not. I haye 
ahyays liked him, but I always bracket Cousin 
Hal and him together. He is like a brother, 

i ' ■ i ' • v > 1 ' ; ! ■ 1 * J . 

that is all. Why do you ask? I am sure neither 
he nor I eyer did anything* to set people talk- 


ing* 


n tfi 


u 


Oh, no. I never heard any one mention 


your names,” said Bluebell yawning slightly., 
I. only used to wonder, sometimes, if that was 
the reason you never seemed to fancy any one 

J / iijiw > * /rsJ 

I 




\r 01 

M YY X) 


r;a>d ?nfl > i /cf> lrr/0 

“ Do you know/’ said Heather, and a faint 


Bluebell’s Return 


*73 


flush came to her cheeks and a proud intona- 
tion into her voice, “ that this is why I am 
thankful to be at home again? There is no 

*f I f j • j , [ ) I ~ / I ft ^ t' t J tTj KFO I *t f > I iM/i 

question of marriage or of love. I got so tired 
of it. I feel I can breathe freely again. I don't 
think it is a nice atmosphere to spend one’s life 
in. I never saw a single man that I would think 

T f /"~X *T *T AA A** p /, » . < 

twice about, and I always hated the chaff and 
talk about such things." 

Bluebell sighed. “ I have made a mess of 
my affair," she said, “ but I was forced into it, 
and forced on. I think it was rather a shame.’ ' 


Then, almost under her breath, she added : 


a 


> 


no( 1 


Why is it, that it is always the wrong 
U 


man : 


tf r f: 


Heather heard, but answered nothing. She 

r - ; 1 ; ■ j . ■ ■ • . 9 ^ 

only pondered as she lay in bed that night : 

; , 1 } ^ j i ' f \ * . j j ^ { s | / ’ ? ’ t • ' * . r J f 1 'I * | t 

Who, then, was the right man ? 

The sisters had much to talk over for the 
next few days. Bluebell was here, there, and 
everywhere, apparently as gay and light-hearted 
as ever. She bore the villagers' out-spoken 
remarks with laughing equanimity. Watty 
told her that she “ had aged considerable," 
Ralph that he “ didn't expec’ to see her without 
her bridegroom," Mrs. Carpenter that “ folks 
were sayin’ that Missis Abigail was shakiri' her 
head over Miss Bluebell's carryin' on, and now 


1 74 - 


Heather’s Mistress 


she was to home agen she meant to keep her 
there ! ” 

1 

Yet Heather was keenly conscious that Blue- 
bell’s apparent levity was only on the surface. 
She told her soon about her own experience, 
and finished up by saying wistfully: 

“ I wish you could see it as I do, Bluebell, or 
as we are meant to see it.” 

t > 

Bluebell shook her pretty head. 

” No, no; I’m afraid I shall never feel relig- 
ious again. I love the world too much. I 

y / I / J | J t I ,1 J ^11 ^ | -v ft J i I U I , i 1 I I 

could never settle down here as vou have done. 

■ ; • , ; J - \ ' ' ; 

I can’t think how you can stand it ! ” 

“ Don’t I look happy? I am. I think hap- 
pier than I have ever been in my life before! ” 
“ Oh, yes, you’re radiant. i Brilliant ’ is what 

you were called in town. Cousin Ida is rather 

. ;T > 

disgusted with you quitting a fashionable life 

' J. j .on / / 

so soon. And, by-the-by, she knows of a poor 
lady that she wants us to have here as a chap- 

, v ” » •' i .« • i j 0 / i j * j » t i j. j \ j ,/ » j 1 1 j ».» j * y / .y j j , / 

eron. I told her I didn’t intend to bury myself 
here very long; but she is uneasy about you. 
She says this Mrs — now what is her name? — 
Fish — Fisher, that’s it — Mrs. Fisher would be 

, ' . ■ > 7 ‘ . , , ; : , j : 1 

glad of a home, and wouldn’t require any sal- 
ary, so you need not refuse her on that score. 

* .j 1 1 > - m * |TliiOO i B J J J f I M I ,)f i 

What do you think about it? We might have 
people to stay if she were here? ” 


Bluebell’s Return 175 

\ 

“ We have not the means to entertain at 
present, Bluebell. It is out of the question. 
Does Cousin Ida think I am settled here for 

. f \ 1 j • « j ■ r 1 • • •. 1 » 1 .n 1 j j * . . f - ■ < • 1 * 

good and all ? ” 

‘ She is afraid so.” 

“ I did not intend to be here altogether, when 
I first came back,” said Heather, slowly, “ but 
I think now that I shall be.” 

^ , • 

“ Well, then, you must have Mrs. Fisher. I 
will write and tell Cousin Ida to send her 

. 1 T • . ; 7 . T ; • ; < i \ K '• i ' n / . ■« 

down.” .. ...j, :i: •, 

“ Oh, Bluebell ! And we shall never be alone 
together again. It will be dreadful having a 
third person always with us. I cannot under- 
stand your wishing it.” 

” I think it will be expedient; I want to have 
a little gaiety even here this winter. We can 
do nothing till she comes.'' 

r 1 

Impetuous Bluebell had her way, and before 
another fortnight had elapsed, Mrs. Fisher ar- 
rived, and was soon a settled inmate of their 
home. She was a quiet, unpretentious little 
widow. “ An ideal chaperon ” she was called 
by girls whom she had taken about. She was 
the wife of a naval officer who had lately died, 
and had seen a good bit of life in her young 

da VS r . f ■ 

: 7 uV.Mn v :- tm 

She adapted herself to her vocation with easy 


: , < 1 i r ; # » 

Heather’s Mistress 



complacency, and even Abigail found nothing 
to say against her. 

The twins did not find her in the way. They 
walked, and talked, and planned out their days 

f • * • • ► 

together in the old style. But Heather felt that 
there was a chasm between them that could not 
be bridged over, and her heart ached over her 

• 9 ► a> m t ► f • y 7 

bright young sister when she saw how uninter- 
ested she was in spiritual things. She did not 

0 \ * r ‘ 

say much, but she prayed night and morning 

# « 

for her, and dimly began to understand a little 
of the stern Abigail’s sentiments about a so- 
cietv life for her nurslings. Bluebell seemed 
entirely swallowed up in it. She was restless 
and discontented at the narrow sphere in which 
she found herself. She did not care to visit in 


the village; her talk, her aspirations, her hopes* 
were all in the gay world which she had left. 
Yet at times she would sit looking at Heather 
with a sweet gravity that was out of keeping* 

J i \ | v 

with her reckless chatter. And one evening, by 

• • * * j 

their bedroom fire, she startled Heather by say- 


mg: 


rj;v/ ‘jflr, " rr mi l a 


; ) j i ! 


(t I think, when I am thirty, if I am not mar 


.o ■ ( 


ried, I will try and be good;” 

► *'r* . • ^ ^ t i r 

Heather smiled at the childish sentence, then 
she said earnestly : 

w Bluebell, do you remember telling me be- 


Bluebell’s Return 



' { • • l , • * , • * 

fore we went to London that you wanted your 
religion to be real, but that you had never had 
it tested ?” 

“ Yes; it didn't stand the test, Heather, it 
failed me.” 

I * vrp 

It wasn’t the right sort. Oh, Bluebell, how 

t f - r * ; ' ■ f tt, 

I wish you knew the Lord as your personal 
Friend.- It makes such a difference. We went 
through our religion like machines; I don't 
think either of us had ever come into close 
touch with God. We had never accepted 
Christ's death for us, and come to Him as 
guilty sinners for forgiveness, and received the 
pardon He obtained for us.” 

“ You are getting out of my depth. I don’t 
understand that kind of thing. It is mere words 
to me.” 

” But you must think seriously sometimes. 
You say you will wait till you are thirty. You 
may not live so long.” 

Bluebell shivered. 

“ Don’t put me in the blues. I should like 
to feel as you do, but I can't. I tell you again, 
I think mv soul is dead." 

“ That is an awful thing to say. Do you 
realise what it means. Death of the soul means 
separation from God for ever. Can you look 
forward to an eternity spent without Him? ” 


178 Heather’s Mistress 


“ Now you’re talking like Abigail. Well, I 
wont’s say it is dead. It is asleep for the pres- 
ent, and I would rather leave it so; it is more 
comfortable. Don’t look shocked at me. I am 

* * * •• •' 1 «?,->_/, f t .J J y l . ■* 1 / • j ) > t I i J.7 i i J * f , 1 y X , 

getting very sleepy so shall turn into bed.” 


This was how all such discussions ended ; but 

) Jjt 7 

Heather did not lose heart, and she believed her 
prayers would be answered before long. 


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.ffi fmorkri 

*i>: - •• : . CHAPTER XIV 


.f>7 j: : r>f!.o/:j 


£ ) X T i ' 't *1 


t 

C( . i- !'•; ■ 

THE RIGHT MAN 


luuni 

I -H>i od I ** 

‘ k Maid choosing man, remember this : 

You take his nature with his name; 

Ask, too, what his religion is, 
ror you will soon be of the same. 

—Coventry Patmore. ; 

fY:-:- - - 


J I i H- 






)'>f pji'jp r i 


jh 


I T was a bright frosty morning in Decem- 
ber. Heather and Bluebell had just re- 

r ■ <■ * . j 

turned from a walk, and were standing 
over the study fire chatting to Mrs. Fisher, 
who with her inevitable knitting was seated in 
her easy-chair. 

Bluebell was just giving a laughable account 
of the village shop being thrown into the ut- 
most confusion by her request for a reel of red 
silk, when the door opend, and Abigail said in 
tones of severity : 

“ A gentleman has called, and is in the drawl- 
ing-room. Here is his card.” 

Heather took it, and she exclaimed in tones 
of delight, u It is Cyril ! Ask him to come in 
here, Abigail, it is so much more cosv.” 


nn< 


/ >, 1 


179 


r •( / f 


u. 


7[[ : *r'>r r tcM 


1 80 


Heather’s Mistress 


Abigail's face was a study; but she with- 
drew in silence, and a moment after Cyril was 
ushered in. 

“ Aren't you surprised to see me? ” he said, 
after the first greetings had been exchanged. 
“ The fact is, I remembered your station, and 
as I have to go twenty miles beyond it on busi- 
ness, I thought I would have a break, and come 
and see how you were getting on. Why, Min- 
nehaha, you look perfectly blooming, and not a 
bit conscience-stricken for your — ahem — shall 
I say discreet retreat! ” 

“ The past is past, if you please,” said Blue- 
bell, trying to copy Heather’s dignified air, but 
failing to impress her audience. “We only 
live in the present. That was what I was taught 
in good society.” , ... 

Cyril looked , at her quizzically, then turned 
to Heather. 

“ Well, Regina, don’t you think it was time 
for her to return to you ? How have you been 
occupying your time in this secluded spot? I 
must tell you, I have walked from the station. 
It’s a good three miles, I suppose, but I wanted 
to stretch my legs. And, on the way, I over- 
took your country postman. We began to com- 
pare notes upon our boots, and agreed that 
leather and humanity were sadly deteriorating. 


“ The Right Man ” 181 

© 


When he heard whither I was bound, he be- 

ITj ' ' l l; 

came most interested, asked me some searching 
questions, and took stock of me from head to 
foot. Then he began to give me his views upon 
i our young leddies.’ I can tell you, I’ve heard 
more about your ways and doings from his 

lips than I should ever have learnt from your 

■ . ’ • 

own l” 

. 1 : ^ : r i : j. 

“ Watty doesn’t think much of us,” said 
Heather laughing. “ In fact, he has a very 
poor idea of the world in general.” 

u So I gathered, but he holds one person in 
great esteem ! ” 

“ Himself? Yes, one soon discovers that.” 
Cyril stayed to lunch, and it was a cheery 

Abigail’s increased 

& ’N I ; : • i 

severity of face and tone as she moved in and 


pleasant meal, in spite of 


k;i 


:>W 


out. - . ■ - 

, 

Afterwards the girls took him round, the 

. . . i 

garden, which, in spite of its wintry appear- 
ance, charmed the critical visitor. 

' . > -V/ j ■ . »:•! 

It has an old-world atmosphere, and 
so has our house. I understand vou both bet- 

ter, now I have seen the home in which vou 

. . , — 

have been brought up.” 


,\ii 


“ I always thought our home had none of the 
picturesque beauty of most old-fashioned 

• 71 . ■ 1 * • n . ■ t 

places,” said Bluebell, slowly; “ but now I have 


1 82 


' i f/ 4 f ’if f ^ 

Heather’s Mistress 


been away from it in spite of much that is hid- 
eous, I like it better than I did.” 

Ay >, % * t 

“ You think you could be reconciled to a 
country life?” said Cvril, with a quick glance 
at her. 

“ No, said Bluebell, laughing and tossing her 
head, “ I can’t vegetate. It wants great minds 
or little minds to live contented in the country, 
and I have just a medium common-place one, 
which must be taken out of itself, and amused 
and interested by external circumstances. 
There! I am talking like an old wiseacre! 
Come down to our farm. It will be a nice 
walk before tea.” 

k ' » f r -j .#• 

, » c '• ’ ‘ ^ t ^ . I* I* * ' t , *• f . ^ ^ . , . * . ^ j » *» . > ^ 

“ I must write letters,” said Heather, liesi- 
tatingly; “ I’m afraid I shall not have time to 


. I 


j r r L 


/ 


do both.” 


^rrot l>m; ‘josi to 


“ We shall be back for a cup of tea,” said 
Bluebell. And she walked off with Cyril, talk- 
ing and laughing with him in the freest and 

i. 1 

most careless way. 


‘rcria ,‘jDrtB 


For a minute, Heather stood at the garden- 

0 

gate and watched them; then she resolutely 
hastened to the house, and tackled some busi- 
ness letters with a divided mind. 


Mrs. Fisher had retired to her room for her 

usual afternoon nap. An hour passed, and 

97 .'A [ 70 f i Ini' , r rr( ’> Jfxbn • f U\r>?. ”, ‘nfdq 


“The Right Man” 183 


Heather rose from her writing-table, her busi- 
ness done. She took a seat by the study win- 
dow, which overlooked the meadows. SomeT 

■ : r ! 

thing in Bluebell’s manner, since Cyril had ar- 
rived, gave her uneasiness. Was it only from 
seeing an old friend again that gave her eyes 
such brightness, and brought such soft flushes 
to her cheeks ? She remembered how Cyril and 
she had always chaffed and laughed with one 
another, now more than usually reckless and 
audacious. Bluebell had always been in his 

• ' * , . j\ 

company; and she laughed at herself for imag- 


ining anything different now. 

Presently, from the window she saw two 
figures crossing the meadows, and she watched 


them as they came nearer. 

r 1 

There Was a little droop and softness in the 

[ ? ; 1 r j 

poise of Bluebell’s figure, that again awoke 
misgiving in Heather’s heart. She saw her 


7 • rtr * r.; ( * . 1 > • 1 j . • . *. 

stoop and pick something from a hedge, she 

saw Cyril spring eagerly to her assistance, two 

/ | I t. J 1 ^ p f • ( k j * V ' 4 1 

heads very clos,e together, and a pause in the 
gathering. Then she turned away, ashamed of 
overlooking them, and wondering if this was 
for her sister’s good. 

Half an hour later, and she heard voices in 


‘ ; r • / * j # 

the hall. Still she did not go to meet them, and 


1 84 Heather’s Mistsess, 

when the door opened and Bluebell came in 

search of her, she did not move from her seat. 

, • . ■ • : : : ' - ■■ ' 

Was this the right man, after all ? ? 

i ; ■ : .*i i . • 

A moment later, and she was told. With 

.... . i . . ■ > > ' 

arms clinging round her neck, her soft cheeks 
pressed against hers, Bluebell told her story ; 

and it was enough to look at her softened radi- 

- 

ant face to know that she was happy. 

“ He came on purpose, Heather. I never 

r • ' , * • _» • % # / > . 1 j • j i ■ 

thought he cared, and he never thought I did. 

> ‘ i ! ,■ ' 

And when Sir Herbert was pestering me he 
kept back. And if I had married him I should 
never have known what I had missed ! Aren’t 
men stupid ! I used to think you were fond of 

I ■ * . ...... ■ ; . , • ; 1 \ ‘ 1 r * i 

him, and so I wouldn’t let myself think of him; 
but it is all right now, and oh, isn’t it delicious 
to have a right to let your feelings go, instead 
of bottling them all up, and thinking them 
wicked ! ” 

Bluebell rattled this off incoherentlv then 
subsided into tears. 

l ‘ . j , < / ‘ofi nu? ii i / J V/ 

“ I want to be good, Heather. He has been 
talking quite differently from what he did. He 
says he never really scoffed at real religion, 
only at shams, and he has been with some 
friend who has made him see things quite dif- 
ferently. I told him I was a butterfly, but he 
seems to think I shall steady down. Do you 


“ ^he Right Man” 


185 


think I shall? Oh! Here is Abigail— what a 
nuisance! Tea is in, I supposed 

Bluebell dashed away to her room, and 

Heather went into the drawing-room, feeling 

* 

almost bewildered at this sudden confirmation 

• ■ y h 1 a. » / • - / r 

pf her fears. ( , i; . 

, She found Cyril alone, [ standing on the 
hearthrug, his back to the fire. 

He looked at her with a queer smile..; 

: Well, Regina? 

“ I can’t congratulate either of you yet,” 
said Heather, trying to speak calmly. It has 
been such a surprise to me that I cannot get ac- 
customed to the thought of it. It never entered 
my head, till I saw you together to-day.” 

“ Are you averse to me as a brother-in- 
law? 

There was silence, then Heather spoke with 
kindling eyes : 

“ I would rather have you as a brother-in- 
law — than — than many others in town. But, 
Cyril, frankly I tell you, I see things so differ- 
ently now to what I did. And I long for Blue- 
bell to hqve some one to help her on the upward 
path. Not to drag her down to a dead level of 
stagnation, and — and mere pleasure-seeking!” 
“ Is that my life? ” ,,, r „ : - 7 


(( 


It was ours in London.” 


a Hr 


f .1 


f r'.-j: 


1 86 


Heather’s Mistress 


Cyril looked at her with his keen eyes, in 


' m 


silence, for a minute. 


t 


“ The old influences have been at work with 
you then, and have prejudiced you against 
society life ? ” 

* 

“ No; I think it is quite a new influence that 

* . f f " • . r r * ' ' 

has crept into my life/' said Heather, smiling; 
“ an influence that has brought me real happi- 
ness at last.” 

There was another pause, then Cyril said: 

► * f . » , 

You know that I never consider mVself a 
societv man, as vou term it. I have too much 
to do when in town, and Minnehaha is quite 

willing to spend most of the year in the couti- 

. 

trv. We shall not be butterflies of fashion.” 

■c , 

Heather was silent, then he said in a lighter 

* • * 

tone : “ Your venture back here has been a stfC^ 
Cess, then? You do not regret it Won’* you 
be pining for more life soon?” • 1 ■■ 

r 4 4 

“T have got as much as I can hold here,” 
said Heather, turning upon him such a radiant 

i i ci • . f . r* • i i i /.■ i 


look of happiness, that Cyril wondered, and 
said no more. 

f f f 

He had to leave very soon, but promised td 
come rown again before long. His last words 
to Heather were: 

• * r * • • f j. ■ 

“ I will trv and be to Minnehaha what you 
desire. I, too, like yourself, have had a new 


“The Right Man” 187 

, v .. f j| ^ , t * * j - ’ r 

influence creeping into my life. It has made a 
great difference to me.” 

Bluebell insisted upon Heather accompany- 
ing her to the station to see Cyril off. As the 
two girls were walking back, they met Watty, 
who was generally to be found loitering along 
the high road. His wife was a good laundress, 
and was always well supplied with work, so he 
did not see any necessity for doing anything 
besides his letter carrying. 

“ Ah,” he said, with a knowing look, as the 
girls stopped to speak to him, “ and which is it 
of you he be after?” 

“ Which do you think ?” asked Bluebell, 
with twinkling eyes. 

Watty rubbed his left ear reflectively. 

“ I said to him, as we be a-joggin' along this 
mornin’ : ‘ And what be your business in these 

r / / J j t 

parts ? ’Tis to be hoped ye’re an honest man if 
ye be after the young leddies, for them Lon-, 
doners are mostly thieves and vagabonds, and 
the gentry a wild lot, I’ve heerd tell ! ’ And he 
were bound to agree, for he wished me to think 

well of ’un. I sez to him, ‘ If ’tis Miss Bluebell 

• * % 

ye’ve come after, ye can have ’en, and welcome, 
I sez, but she’ll lead a sober man a dance, and 
want tight reins and a strong hand wi’ ’er. 
But if ’tis Miss Heather,’ I sez, * well, there be 


J l I f A ! i J r~ \ 


1 88 


Heather’s Mistress 

iJ-RXvT JllSI/I ZfH X 


several parties in this ’ere village that will have 
a word to say on that p’int. An cl ye won’t 
earn their goodwill by carryin’ of her off ; not 
but what she be rather a haughty-headed young 

wiman, with a will o’ her own, and needs a 

■ > '< 

deal o’ managin’, but her heart and purse goes 
well together, and she have a care for the poor 
and destitoot.’,” . ; 

i . ) . : , ' 

'‘And what did he say?” asked Bluebell, 
quite unabashed by the old man’s speech. 

"Well, he appeared to.be a-considerin’, and 
I gave ’un a bit more profitable talk for which 
he thanked me, and us went our ways. [ sez, 


‘ I wish you well, sir, but, b’lieve me, a maid 
is a risky treasure, and ’tis them that is single 
that is blest! 

“ You ought ;to. be ashamed pf yourself, 
Watty,” said Heather, severely, “ with such a 
good wife at home, to speak so ! Where would 
yon be without her ? ” 

f i Watty chuckled drily. • , y; ; 

“ Ah, well. Her does her: best. And I will 
allow she might be worse, but I have ’er well in 
hand. Which be it, young leddies, which be 

•i. p >> 

“ You had the honour, Watty,” said Blue- 
bell, drawing herself up with great assumption 
of dignity, “ to speak to my affianced husband 


“ The Right Man ” 189 

» rtf . 

• . • • • • ’ 

this morning*. Miss Heather is still going to 
remain amongst you to manage you all. I 
don’t wish her joy of it; good afternoon.” 
They passed rapidly on, and Watty gazed 


after them for a moment in silence. 


. . •• ■ 


1 1 


“ Well, my reckonin' were not far out ! So 
there’ll be weddin’-bells soon, and a good hearty 

* * i • i ‘ - . 

supper after, if Miss Heather does her part 

well. I must just step into the office and tell 

* 1 ' 

Mrs. Carpenter. She allays thinks she’s first 
hand for news, but this’ll take the feather out 
o’ her cap, I reckon ! ” 

Abigail received the news in grim silence. 
Bluebell was content to have her silent, and 

^ r f • ► » > f * ^ t t >■ rt . ? . J • • > 

she did not ask her for congratulations. But 
when Heather happened to go into the kitchen 

■” # f * j 

late in the evening, Abigail came forward : “ Is 

• i [ i ■ 1 i \ * - - , »*i /. f 4 - 

this match to your likin’, Miss Heather ? ” she 
asked, sternly. 

7 

“ My opinion has not been asked, Abigail,” 
Heather answered, gently. “ Bluebell must 

^ * f ( ; • , • ( • '• < 1 , > ; 1 f # / * * # 

please herself. She will not stand dictation 

from me. Mr. Carter is an upright, honourable 

gentleman ; we have known him intimately for 

a long time, and he will make a good husband.” 

“ And is this all you can say? Have you no 

. ■ . . . 

thought for their immortal souls? Is he a 

« ’ f O 5 < 

servant of the Lord, Miss Heather? One that 


IOO 


Heather’s Mistress 


my late departed mistress would have approved 
of? Will he be ior following righteousness, 
or the wicked ways of the world? Is Miss 

.1 II"! ' 

Bluebell to' be allowed to yoke herself to an 

■* '< 1 1 ‘ ' ■ ■ ! * 1 ! -■ . : ' / . . < ■ . ' • A t 

unbeliever, I ask you?” 

’ < i / • : .. 

Heather looked a little troubled. 

•• • . ‘ i P • l i, r J -il > •/ : ; ; / . ‘ m 

“ I know all you feel, Abigail, and wish I 
could reassure you. You must remember, 

. J . . i ■ ’ 

Bluebell does not see quite the same as we do. 
But from what I know of Mr. Carter, I feel 
sure he will lead her right, and not wrong. 
This is in confidence to you. Some time ago, 

• ^ ; » • | fj ) 

Mrs. Carter wrote to me, saying that Mr. Car- 
ter was in Scotland with a friend who w r as very 
religious. I am sure he must have influenced 

° ; • '■ I • ' .H i . , ; . ■ tf i : > 

him, for Mr. Carter seems graver, and talks 
differently about serious things, now. In fact, 

he told me as much when I spoke to him, and I 

" * . * ’ ! 

am hoping very much that he will lead Blue- 
bell to think differently, too. We must pray 


for them both.” 

i j I 1 ' M 


.yljfrm 


m.yi \ 


,, She left the kitchen, and Abigail said no 
more. Just before going to bed, Heather put 
-her arm around- her twin sister affectionately. 

“ And are you perfectly happy now, Blue 
bell? 

“Perfectly!” said Bluebell, with emphasis. 
“Oh!” she added, impetuously, “I can’t tel! 


“The Right Man ” 


what a nightmare Sir Herbert was to me! The 
teeling that he could not and would not see a 
joke, the heavy, stolid conversation he tried to 
make, and the awful oppression I always felt in 
his company! Now, with Cyril it is all sun- 
shine; I always felt I could go to the wilds of 
Africa and be happy with him. You need have 
no fears about us, Heather. We shall be a 
well-matched couple, without being a too sen- 


timental one ! tt 


) i >. t A ) > 


“ And what do you intend your married life 




I oCi .ncofl Y>rro j . f ^a>b;Mr ft o:>iro 


“ To be? I don’t quite understand you. 
We shall be up in town a good part of the year, 
so I shall see plenty of society, and the rest of 
the year We shall be in the country and I shall 
have nice people staying with us; and if I feel 
very good I shall visit our tenants and look 


after their welfare. " 7 u{ : i md 

“ It sounds delightful,” said Heather, earn- 
estly: “ but,. Bluebell, dear, you can never be 
really happy living only for your own pleasure 
and amusement. Don't start a married life 
without God. You will only drift farther 
away. I don’t say much to you, but I do long 
that you should know what real religion is ! " 

“I don't want Abigail’s religion!" said 
Bluebell, flippantly. 


192 


Heather’s Mistress 


Jii 


No one wants you to have her religion. 
Your nature is quite a different one from hers, 
I don’t want you to have, any one's religion but 
Christ s. 

V4 . i. ). 

Bluebell sighed. > ... ■ : 

“ Well, I will some day," she said, “ when I 
get tired of life. But I want to enjoy it at 
present." 

“ You will never, never enjoy it, until you 
are a true Christian,” said Heather, with kind- 
ling eyes. “ I couldn’t ave believed the differ- 
ence it makes in one’s heart. Do I seem un- 
happy, Bluebell ? ” ; r ' ‘ 

“ No, I can’t say you do; I’ve never seen 
you so bright; but don't worry me any more. 
I told you my soul was asleep, and I want it to 
stay asleep for a little. I hate feeling uncom- 
fortable. I mean to be really good later on, 
but not just now.” > h v , ■ ! . ; 

She changed the subject as she always did, 
and Heather only prayed the more. 


1 , • 

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■ n 

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< .1 


• i 




CHAPTER XV 

The Old Priory. 


f f 


“ The thread of our life would be dark, Heaven knows, 
If it were not with friendship and love intertwined.” 

— Moore. 

— J V " 1 j* It -t V V ) s ft ' 

PRING again. We find Heather still in 
her country home. But Bluebell has 
married, and is travelling abroad with 
her husband. The wedding was a quiet one. 

j ; ; . % , 

Mrs. Carter wished it to be in town; but both 

girls decided that it must be in their old home, 
and so Captain and Mrs. Carter, and a few 

. » | , r r . • ... * " 

friends, came to be present at it, and Mrs. Car- 

• * • r t- r 

ter enjoyed a battle of words again with the in- 

* . « 

exorable Abigail. 

“ Miss Heather must marry next, and if she 
is not quick about it, I shall carry her off to 
London again. She is not going to be an old 
maid if I can help it! ” 

“ She is going to be what the Lord means 
her to me, mem/’ retorted Abigail. “ He is 

• f • • * 

her Keeper, and not those that tempted her 
astray from His paths for a time! Miss 

T 93 


194 


Heather's Mistress 


Heather has thoughts above marryin’ and 
givin’ in marriage! ” 

“ Her time hasn’t come yet. Wait till the 
right man turns up, and then away she will go 
like all the rest of us. She is Very much ad- 
mired in town, Abigail. A certain major in my 
husband’s battalion has not forgotten her yet. 
I think I shall give him a hint to follow Mr. 
Carter’s example, and come and see how the 
land lies now. She would make a good sol- 


dier’s wife! ” 

“A soldier, mem!, 
would consider him! 


A paid murderer, we 
And Miss Heather has 


not been nurtured and brought up by a mem- 
ber of the Friends’ Society, to fling herself 
away on one with the lowest calling in our na- 
tion » ” ? 

The wedding over, Heather settled down to 
her quiet life, having Mrs. Fisher to enliven 
her solitude, and her poor people to interest her. 
She steadfastly refused Mrs. Carter's invitation 
to pay her a visit, and, though missing her sis- 
ter daily, preserved a bright and sunshiny 
spirit. One morning she received a letter from 
Ena Vaughan, in which she asked her to come 
and stay with her for a short time. 

She sat with this letter in her hand for some 








<n- h 




The Old Priory 


1 95 


3 [ 


time considering, and then consulted Mrs. 
Fisher. 

The thought of seeing her friend again filled 
her with delight. It was a visit that would not 
only give her intense pleasure, but would, she 
felt sure, be beneficial to her in many ways. 
And when Mrs. Fisher and Abigail both said 
that a change would do her good, Heather 
wrote off, and joyfully accepted the invitation. 
It was a lovely spring evening when she 
reached the small country station that was her 
destination. She alighted on the platform, 
and looked about her. There were very few 

t ‘ « V 1 I . ' r / / j ’ 1 t . * j 4 , t * ■ <* t r • I * •- • . 

passengers by the same train, and the old porter 
seemed half asleep. She was trying to make 
him understand where she wanted to go, when, 
turning around, she encountered Dick, who had 
arrived rather warm and breathless after a 
sharp run. 

’ll 5 r 1 

“ If you please, miss, the missus said as I 

’ t i % ' f? i • y f ) - f ' L) * *f *' : ' - r F 1 r . v 1 1 * 1 I { J ' ' 

were to take charge of your luggage and see it 
packed in the trap. Mr. Spike, he can’t leave 

i 

the horse, and I were kept waiting on a mes- 

- ' it, > • ’ , -y j 

sage or I should have been here before, and the 
master, he is away on business or he would 
have come to meet you himself ; the trap is this 
way, if you please, miss.” 

Dick was struggling with his dignity and 

. 


1 96 


Heather’s Mistress 


breathlessness, but Heather smiled, and under- 
stood. She followed him out, and found the 

trap waiting for her. In a few minutes she 

was being driven swiftly through sweet-smell- 

' ' . \ ' ) ! . * * 

ing lanes, eventually stopping at an old stone 
gateway, with a rustic lodge at one side. Then 

' r # ' 

up a rhododendron drive, where the flowers 
were in masses of bloom, they eventually drew 
up before an ivy-clad turreted stone house with 
old-fashioned casement windows, and a weath- 
er-beaten porch, over which was sculptured in 
stone the Latin device, “ Sic vos non vobis.” 
Heather looked around her with a keen sense 
of pleasure and refreshment in everything she 

■ 1 , ' ' \ 1 : . ; * ./•» 1 ‘ 5 V* •*. 

saw. Just inside the door, waiting in her wheel- 
chair to receive her, was Ena. Great bowls 

• 1 * 

of golden daffodils stood on the old oak side- 
boards, in the square wainscoted hall. The 

stairs with their crimson carpets wound round 

• ' ■ . ■ ■ > ■ 

and upwards, past a richly-stained window, 

1 . ' . • . ? 

and all inside the house seemed to give an at- 

i ■ • 1 . * 1 , _ i . f I t 1 

mosphere of warmth and comfort, which con- 

, . ■ * * 

trasted delightfully with the dark oak panelling 

• ' i 0 .■ M ! j ' ’ : 

and dusky corners that abounded in the old 
Priory. 

, - ' , ; ! ; > ■ ’ ' ■ • , , • 

The first greetings over, Dick gently wheeled 

his mistress into the drawing-room, .and 
Heather followed her. It was a quaint low 


1 97 


The Old Priory 

• M J 

LtI Hi/, 


room, panelled in oak; old china and beautiful 

' ■ . r • ' ; ’ * l ' • ; '■ • , ; . ' ' | • . 

paintings adorned the walls, thick oriental rugs 
covered the polished floor; books, music, spring 
flowers in abundance, and a dozen other name- 

1 ! t 

less trifles, showed that it was a room for use 
and comfort, and not for show. 

7 # 9 — , 

A bright wood fire was burning in the grate * 

• . * f . . r r " 
the evening sun shone in, and played upon the 

' i - 7 , ■ , , 

silver tea-service and flowers that were on the 

, 

afternoon tea-table drawn up to Ena’s couch. 
Dick assisted his mistress there, then noise- 
lessly left the room, and Heather sank into an 
easy-chair feeling that her lines had fallen m 
pleasant places. 

“ It is delicious to be here,” she said. “ I 
feel rather tired of being mistress, and manag- 

• V . 

ing every one/’ 

“ You are looking tired and pale,” said Ena 

" t < « *. i - y • . ^ , • , , i | .*■ 

affectionately. “ I have felt so sorry for you 
since your sister’s marriage.” 

“ Yes,” Heather said, with a little sigh, “ it 
is a dreadful experience to go through, for I 

’f -f .' > ji • - ’ ■ ■ ■ j f ' 1 (.i . , , . 

feel that she will never be quite the same again. 
But I was prepared for it, when she was away 
from me before. That was the worst wrench, 
1 think, for it was our first parting.” 

“ Now I am going to give you some tea, and 

r 'i >• r |T j * [ i i . | v fit)'/ j r I r < * i 

then you would like to go to your room. I 


r 


198 


' i 1 , () ‘ . •'{ i. 

Heather’s Mistress 


J M I J > i-H'l'J ! 


,'TUx.n 


hope you will be comfortable, but I can trust 
my maid to see after you. It is one of my trials 
that I cannot look to my visitors’ comfort; but 

j 7 

# • .4 i * ( * ■ r • 

I never go upstairs at all. I have my bedroom 
on the ground floor. What do you think of 

' ( ' * > '• Mi > , ! 1 ‘ ) 1 . f " 1 1 > 

our home? ” 

f \ 1 I f , r •» » » , ♦ • , . 

u I think it is sweet,” said Heather enthusi- 
astically; •“ it must be very old, isn’t it? ” 

“ Very old. The monks lived here in the 

^ > : .)•>■ i',j -j; , : ; 1 '** *1 r ;‘ 

time of Henry viii v but were turned out by the 
king, who gave it to one of his court favour- 
ites; a certain Baron, Sir Bertram Havish. 
The Havishes were ancestors of my mothers, 
and the Priory has belonged to them ever since. 

A cousin of ours lived here up to the time we 

... . 1 

came into ic. He handed it over to my brother 
because he wanted to go off to the Colonies. I 
think I told you about it. Of course the best 
part of the Priory is in ruins, this is quite a 
small bit of it, but it is the only part of it that 
has always been lived in, and it is quite large 
enough for us. Did you notice the doorway as 
you came in? ” 

J * f. 

“ Yes, I did, and the carved motto above. 
What is the exact meaning of it? Something* 

about labour or work, isn’t it? ” 

: ' • • < 'in, ! ( * / . 

u ‘ Thus you do not labour for yourselves/ 
Rather nice, isn’t it? A gentle reminder to all 


i 9 9 


The Old Priory 

.who live here that selfishness and indolence 
will not be tolerated. I like to put with it that 

verse ‘ that they which live should not hence- 
forth live unto themselves, but unto Him which 
died for them/ ” 

Heather’s eyes shone. 

J V fc » " * {~ f .* k i 

“ Yes,” she said, “ it isn’t only living and 

4 « ► * f ^ v . • ;■ t - r | r f r • , » , , 

labouring for other people, but for Him! ” 

• • * ' ‘ * ‘ ' 

Ena nodded smilingly. 

They drank their tea, and chatted together; 
and then Heather was taken upstairs to her 
room. It was as quaint as the rest of the 
house, with its deep recesses, and low window- 
seat, overlooking a range of wooded hills, and a 
winding river. All the rooms were panelled in 
oak, but light chintz curtains and hangings re- 

y • • * * * . < i - r 4 * . • f r * ... , . - ■ i' « '{!• * - ■ •/ \ 

lieved the bedrooms of any gloom. A small 
wood fire was burning in her grate, and bowls 
of daffodils and primroses stood on her dress- 
ing-table. , 

Heather felt as she sat down on her cush- 
loned window-seat, and surveyed the scene 
within, and without, that her room would be a 

/H I -A '■ f, i ; r i * ’ 0 ' 

pleasant resort for rest and enjoyment. 

Later on, she came down to the drawing- 
room in her dinner-dress, and found Ena and 
her brother together. 

Captain Vaughan apoligised, as he shook 


200 


Heather’s Mistress 


hands with her, for not meeting her at the sta- 
tion. 

♦ « * ' * • \ • . f i \ I t r i • 

* 4 L 

” My sister and I have so few guests now, 
that I feel we ought to welcome warmly any 
who do come to us. But I was obliged to 
attend a committee meeting at the very hour 
your train arived.” 

■ . 1 ' » ■ ! ' < . . • ’ if". ■ * • > , c :) 

“ I do not mind at all,” Heather responded. 
“ We have been so used to manage for our- 

selves lately that I feel quite independent. At 

, • 

home no one ever meets us. You see we have 

t , • ’ ■ ‘ i ’» -j 1 i ! ’ ; ■ :• 4 ■ 

no trap, so we always take a fly and drive 
straight back with no difficulty.” 

“ Bertram thinks that no woman ought to 
be able to do anything for herself / 1 said Ena 
laughing. “ He can’t understand the up-to-date 

P O A 

girls, who are so well accustomed to take care 
of themselves . 11 

‘ I . V . . f : ’ - { ft • • : ti ■ : . > • 

Heather laughed as she turned frankly to 
Captain Vaughan. 

“ It is pleasant to be taken care of,” she said; 

“ but if you have no father or brothers, it 

' . 

naturally makes you independent. 

u Oh, yes,” he said, with a little smile; “ and 
the independence is very pleasant, is it not? ” 
“Perhaps it is. I know Bluebell and I gloried 
in it a year ago, but I fancy after a time one 
tires of it.” 


The Old Priory 


201 


There was uncaonscious wistfulness in her 

■ i ■ . 

eyes. Ena said quickly : 

. 7 > J 1 ■ i 

‘ You have left all leadership and response 

.* : i . i ' •• ' J > . ! i . ji 

bility behind you now, and have sunk into a 
common-place country visitor. I am going to 
treat you as such, and I am sure you are long- 

! ^ » * < . . . i .* 

ing for some dinner. There is the gong, so let 
us go in. Do congratulate me upon my improve- 
ment. I can join you at dinner in my wheel- 
chair. I have only managed this for the last 
month, so am still proud of my achievement. 
Dinner was a pleasant meal. Heather 
thoroughly enjoyed the cheerful, cultivated 

j 

society of her friends. Captain Vaughan had 
a good deal of quiet humour, but he was. also 
a well-read and well-informed man, with liter- 
ary tastes; and both he and his sister took a 

• ■ # i - 1 , r 1 

keen interest in the current literature of the 

i : 1 of ; ■ ■ n r r/ ' ! I 

day. , . . . . 

, i i ' 7 1'; M l ; - j 

“ I feel very ignorant when I hear you and 
your brother talk,” Heather said to Ena as they 
sat in the drawing-room afterwards, leaving 
Captain Vaughan to his smoke; “ but you don’t 
know how I like hearing you ! We are so shut 
up at home to our house-keeping, and the wants 
of the village, that I sometimes forget the great 
world outside us.” 

\ ‘ 1 ' ’> ‘ ( ( "j if' ; , 

u I don’t know wat I should do without out- 


i ♦ 


202 




Heather’s Mistress 


side interests,” Said Ena thoughtfully. “ It 

* ; • i ‘ ' I ‘ | [ 'J 7 I 

takes one out of oneself so, and I dread falling 
into an invalid's self-centred life. Bertram is 
such a help in that way. I always think men 
are like a fresh breeze through a house, espe- 
cially those who are out of doors a good deal, 

' # » , ' . : T “ 

and are in the way of meeting other men. Ber- 
tram is a keen sportsman, though he looks upon 
sport only as a recreation. And then he very 
often goes up to town, and I hear the latest 
news in that way/' 

‘ I should like to have had a brother, ” said 
Heather, as she gazed into the fire, making a 

■ f f f ' ■ • • ' , , ■ * ■ 

pretty picture as she sat in an old oak chair, her 
slender little figure in its white dress, thrown 
into full relief by the dark wood background. 
Ena looked at her and smiled. 

. , /» 

“ Perhaps you will be given a husband in- 
stead/’ she said playfully. 

Heather shook her head, and changed the 
suoject. 

J t ■ ■ • i.i ■ ' ' ; ’ i- 

Captain Vaughan soon came in, and Ena 
asked him what . engagements he had for the 

, / ; - ° : ,m //■ mi 

next day. 

“ I want vou to show Heather the. church, 
and the dripping well. I cannot . manage it 

. ■ • )>('•!»)• .* : » t'i 1 * 77 

because of the steps.” f , 

“ I shall be busy all the morning,” he said, 


The Old Priory 


r 

. , >, 


20 


(( 


f • 


but after luncheon I can take Miss Fotherin- 


i f f f » 


i ; ’ ' ■ 


gay anywhere. We can do the church and well 

i ■ 

and go on to St. Margaret's. I think those are 

0 1 s :• ' ■ i . ' . ' ! 1 ' ■ '••*./ (■■'■} : ) ‘ . , ,■ 

all the antiquities to be seen. Are you fond of 
ruins, Miss Fotheringay ? ” 

“ Yes, if they’re picturesque,” said Heather, 
smiling. “ It reminds me of old Ralph at home, 
who met a wandering artist one day. He asked 

. ffp | ‘ * 1 ^ | ) I r ■ . • • * f > ■ . 

if there were any ruins to be seen, and Ralph 

' ! 

led him off with alacrity to a half-burnt pigstye 
of Farmer White's. ‘ There,' he said, ‘ 'tis a 
newer ruin than those old ruins at Rome my 
paper tells me of, for ’twas only burnt last 
Toosday week, so you’ve come to the right man 
for showin' the right sort ! ' ” 

“ One never quite understands whether it is 
simplicity or shrewdness in any of these rus- 
tics,” said Captain Vaughan. “I always feel 

* } { j f ; t ,, T; 1 < J i 

they're having a quiet laugh at my expense 

• ■ j f kj i ' ! ' t j \ 

when I talk with them. Well, St. Margaret’s 
is worth seeing. It used to be an old convent, 

.7 / ' ’ ' i ’ , , ' . , y * • > ' ' • , • ( { 'J j * * i ' 1 \ f 'r . i ' 

and the good people in those days knew how 
to pitch their retreats in the most exquisite 

• r • « , • J ‘ t 

parts of our country. 


u 


' * * 1 M I ‘ I ' : , t j • r j j j r ^ j ^ ^ ^ PA |*V 

I supposed it solaced them for what they 


had forsaken,” said Heather. 

■ r 


u 


iifuai 


And after all, 


there is nothing like nature to soothe and calm, 
and help meditation.” 


Heath, r’s Mistress 


> k > f 




.11 


‘'For the , tired and weary spirits/’ put in 
Ena, “ but hardly, for the young restless ones. 
There must have been many who, like caged 
birds, beat their wings against their prison 
walls, and pined away in the narrow sphere in 

* .j J r J , r ' * 

which they found themselves. Their energies 

. . • • ® 

must have been cramped, their lives dwarfed, 
and their tempers soured by the constant re- 
strictions and supervision over them.” 

■ ' . ' r ; . ■■ - ■ . 

‘‘Yet I fancy it was easier in those days to 
act, when contrasts were so strongly defined,” 
said Heather thoughtfully. “If one wanted to 
be good, . there was always the convent, you 
weren’t supposed to be half in the world and 
half out of it, it was one thing* or, the. other.” 

*; ,.i : 1 ; ■ j • 

“ Not taken out of the world, but kept from 
the evil. In the world, but not of it.” . 

■ 1 ■ : - i ' •; ■ ; ’ , n • ' ■ ■, • ' t . • - r ■ , 

Ena spoke softly, and Heather looked up 
with a smile. 

. ! ■ ' * i ' • ■ 

“ I think the world has always approved of 

Christians taking themselves right out of the 

. • • 

way so as not to be objectionable and give 

■ j • •* * ) ■ ' * 

offence,” said Captain Vaughan strolling to 

• ’ , ' . ■ < •<. . r ; • ■ ; 

the window and looking out in the dusky gar- 
den. “ It always has been fashionable to enter 

* • t X j . ; ’ ' : l ) 1 » * * v 

convents and sisterhoods, but not fashionable 
to be introducing one’s religious opinions to 
society in general.” 


nil/. bn 

The Old Priory 205 

“ No,” said Heather, “ and I suppose if a 
Christian bottles up his religion, he becomes 

j ' . j 

like a stagnant pool. He must be a worker of 

some sort. So there is nothing for it but to 

. 1 # l ' ■ j <*: •> ■ J * ! J 

separate himself at once.” 

“ But he need not hide himself away in a 
monastery,” said Ena brightly. “ Do you 
think so, Bertram?” 

Captain Vaughan turned round from the 
window with a smile. 

“ I consider if ever we are in doubt about 
the kind of life we should lead, whether we 
should mix with our fellows in society to show 
them that Christians are not narrow and big- 
oted, and are able to take part in all their pleas- 
ures. We have our guidance in Nehemiah, and 
a very good reason given for our withdrawal 
from a good deal of it.” 

“ What do you mean? ” asked Heather, with 
interest. 

“ I suppose each one of us is helping to build 
the walls of the church. If we are, this is 
Nehemiah’s excuse : ‘ I am doing a great work, 
so that I cannot come down. Why should the 
work cease whilst I leave it, and come down to 
you ? 9 ” 

“ I like that,” exclaimed Heather, with a 


2o6 


OS 


Heather’s Mistress 


! l i 


flash of gladness in her eye. “ But of course it 
can only apply to busy Christians. ” 

' ’ i _ i ' • r j V 

“ Ought we not all to be busy about our 
Father’s business ?” 

l . . ; ’ I , t 1 J 1 i ■ ' • > ; ; ■ I { S" 1 * 1 , t ,, , 

There was a little silence, broken by Dick’s 

appearance with a message, but Heather had 
' ' ' ■ , ; * 

enough for plenty of thought that evening, and 


she lay her head on her pillow a little later, with 

a happy, restful heart. 

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CHATER XVI 


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i; DVil ui 

A CALAMITY 

'll 


t Y) ( T H I)!*/ 

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j i i j ) 


17 >7 1 m/' > .7 


'i t 


t ' ' 


“Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; 
but great minds rise above it .” — Washington Irving . 


T HE days slipped by very quickly /to 
Heather. She enjoyed the; .walks* 
with Captain Vaughan, the talks 
with Ena, and the wonderful beauty of her 
picturesque surroundings. 

She lost a little of her imperious manner; she 
was no longer the mistress of house and farm,- 
‘‘ the young leddy ” of the village, there wasi 
no one to keep in order, no business matters to 
be taken in hand, and the relaxation of her life,' 
brought out all the light-hearted gaiety of her 
nature, and made her gain in girlish grace what 
she lost in dignity. ) , . •, , r[ ; 

Ena watched her flitting about with a happy 
ringing laugh, and listened to her bright 
humorous speeches with delight. 

“ I am making you younger/’ she said 'to 
her, laughingly, one morning, as they sat in the 

sunshine under the old stone porch. 

207 


2o8 


Heather’s Mistress 


ft 


r r r » * . i i 


• “ I believe you are," Heather replied with 
twinkling eyes. “ I feel very old at home, 
especially when I am trying to manage Abigail. 
And since Bluebell has married, I have been 
lonely. It isn’t good to live alone now, is it? 
What would you feel like if you had no brother 
in and out?” 

Ena shook her head. 

“ I fail to imagine. And yet, of course, he 
may marry, and I may have to seek a home 
elsewhere.” ; 

“Then you could come and live with her. 
That would be delightful.” 

Ena laughed. • ' ! 

■ • t , * 

Heather went on more seriously. “ It is a 
great comfort to feel that one’s future is already 

% • t t *• » 

planned by God, and out of our own hands. I 
like to think of it. I wish I had realized it 
before, it would have saved me from a good 
deal of fret. I don’t think I should have tried 

r • • f 

to change our lives so. I often think now that 

* f • » 

it has not been good for Bluebell. She seems 
to love nothing better than a whirl of excite- 
ment. I hope she will be different now that she 

t * + r * 

is married, but I don’t know.” 

* f 

A little sigh followed her. words. 

* » • * f 

“ I wish I knew your sister. I have never 
seen her.” : 


A Calamity i 209 

“ Yes, I should like you to know her. She 
always has taken life brightly, much more so 
than I. I need to be much more discontented 
with one quiet life than she was. I incited her 
to want a change, and it seems strange that it 
should be I who have been brought back to 
the quiet life again, and she who is away 
from it. 

“ But I think you must be the happier of the 
two.” 

“ I really think I am. But, Ena, 1 am 
wondering if I ought to do more definite work 
for God.” 

“What do you do? I mean outside your 
home duties ? ” 

“ I visit the villagers, and since I have — well, 
since I have seen the reality of it all, I have 
tried to speak to them about it. I have started 
a little working-party amongst the mothers ; it is 
a kind of a mothers’-meeting, and then I have 
Bluebell’ s Band of Hope, and I have my Sun- 
day class on Sunday. I don't think I do any- 
thing else. I go to the Union once a week, that 
is four miles away. But in a small village there 
is not much to be done. 1 have been wondering 

as I have no home-ties, whether I ought not to 

« 

go into some distinct work, perhaps abroad as 


Heather’s Mistress 


■ 2 : o 

a missionary. I feel I should like to give my 
life right up for God.” 

“ That we can do at home as well as abroad/' 
said Ena, quietly. “ I know when first I became 
a true Christian I thought the same, and grum- 
bled a little because my accident prevented all 
such ideas. But I have come to see that a 
Christian’s work is close to them, all’ round 
them, and that a soul is worth winning — 
whether it is a fashionable member of society, 
or a cannibal in heathen lands. If we each did 
our part in soul-winning, from our own home- 
centre, the world would be a different place. Of 
course, I know the needs of missions are great, 
and many are right to obey the call and go. 
For myself, I have been placed here, and my 
brother and I both try to quietly influence our 
neighbours. You have not seen many of our 
friends yet. There are one or two that, judg- 
ing from appearances and life, would have been 
the last persons you would imagine had any 
religious cravings; yet three of them come to 
me for real downright earnest talk; and one 
has quite lately seen with us, that life is not life 
till one gets linked on to the Living One. I 
am only telling you this to encourage you, Get 
to know young girls in your neighborhood and 
try to influence them. Ask them to stay with 


A Calamity 2 1 1 

gatn giM a'lsdjaaH & 1 s 

you — oh, there is a great deal of work close to 
one’s hand always, if we would only see it.”- 
“ But,” said Heather, hesitating a little, “ I 
can speak to the poor people about these things, 
but not to those in my class. It would be so 
difficult.” 

-Why? Is our Lord’s service only for the 

f • r mt/ • f ' t # f 

poor? Are the rich to be excluded from it? 

Don’t their very temptations and difficulties 

* 

appeal to us from having known them our- 
selves?” 

i m m * r . 1 

“I suppose it is cowardice,” said Heather. 
“ One knows the poor do not sneer at one or 

( T T ‘ ‘ _ * • *, 4 

shrug their shoulders at ‘ such fanaticism ’ as 
it is termed. There is no cross to bear when 

* • y 4 » ' 

working among the poor. But I am afraid of 

» 

girls of my own class. And the fact is, there 

are very few about our neighborhood. We 

. 

have never had any girl friends. I met a good 

1 f ff 

many when staying with Cousin Ida in town, 

* ’ y r f * * r i , , 

but they would be bored to death if I asked 
them to stay with me.” 

“ I know a good many here,” said Ena, 

* | ( • r 

thoughtfully. “ I think I must have some of 
them over to tea, and let you get acquainted 




i< irjcj 


» r 1 1 (jj 


With them.” 

But this plan was not carried into action. 

» f »•« « » * • 

The very next morning Heather received a 


;r i 


212 Heather’s Mispress 

lib’ i j - 

letter from her lawyer, Mr. Brody., asking her 
for an immediate interview. 

“ It is something disagreeable about our 
money affairs, I know,” said Heather, with a 
perplexed face. 

It was after breakfast. Captain Vaughan 
had just brought his sister some early tomatoes 
from the green-house, and he stood in the 
French window of his sister’s morning-room. 

“ Cannot he come and see you here? ” asked 
Ena. “ You have only been with us a fortnight, 
and you promised me a month.” 

“ I am afraid I must go home. Mr. Brodv 
has written me several long letters lately. Some 
of our dividends have not come in, and grand- 
mother left us nearlv all her monev in shares : 

> » ... i v ‘ ' 

they are very shaky now I am afraid. I cannot 
quite follow his letters; but I must see him, 
and I think I would rather see him at home.” 

Ill l J 1 * i ... • / , , 1 . 1 4 I ) J I i ,{{ { 1 1 f >’ l I 

“ When do you want to go? ” asked Captain 
Vaughan, quietly. • . : ; , 

" He wants to see me to-morrow. I ought 
to leave this afternoon. Would it be possible ? ” 
“ Certainly, if you wish it. I will drive you 
to the station myself. There is a train leaving 
at three, which will get you home before dark. 
Will that do ?• ” , , . , . . 

” Yes, thank you, very nicely.” 


A Calam’ty 


f ' 




H 


2 1 3 


4- i 


Captain Vaughan walked away without an- 

* t !•,!•> . j 

other word, and Heather turned to her friend. 

“ Oh, Ena, I am so sorry. I have been 
enjoying myself so ! ” h f ’ : 

The tears were in Heather’s eyes as she 

f : ; ■ . • . ■ 

stooped to kiss her friend. “ I sometimes 

* r * f 

think,” she went on, trying to speak bravely, 
“ that I am not meant, to have much pleasure 
in my life; duty is always stepping in and spoil- 

' * * r 

ing it. Aren’t there some plants that thrive 
best in the shade and not in the sunshine? 1 
think I must be one of them.” 

“ No, no,” said Ena, shaking her head; “ my 
dear child, that is a gloomy theory. This is a 
great disappointment to both of us; but I hope 
after your interview you will come back to us 
and finish your visit. Don’t you think that 
could be managed?” 1 

“ I should like to,” said Heather, somewhat 
witsfully; “ but I don’t feel as if I shall.” 

Then, brightening up a little, she added : “ It 
is ungrateful of me to talk so. I shall have 
enough pleasant memories of this dear old 
priory to tast me till I come again. And you 
have promised me a visit later on, so I shall 
look forward to that. I must go to pack my 
trunk now. I shall not be long.” 

And for the rest of the time before she went, 


i' * ' 1 . 

214 Heather’s Mistress 

1 I r w . . , . ) r ’ • r , . x 

•’I •> I , ) < • 7 / 1. / r . ’•'•»/! • i f ■ t . : • «/ : ; * * • > 

# 1 • < > -> ( 1 ! 1 J > J ' ; ! > y 

Heather was her bright brave self. She talked 
cheerily to Captain Vaughan on the way to the 
station, and asked his advice about one or two 
things connected with the farm. 

Though perfectly at ease with him, she felt a 
strange shyness sometimes when in his com- 
pany. He was an extremely reticent and un- 
demonstrative man, and though always courte- 
ous and pleasant to her, and occasionally 
humorous, he never seemed to invite any one’s 
confidence, and had an absent distrait manner, 
that was not flattering to the one with whom 
he was conversing. 

Just before they came to the station, Heather 
asked him, a little diffidently: “ Do you know 

anything about these shares of ours, Captain 
Vaughan? Do you think I need be uneasy? ” 
“ Have you most of your income in them? ” 
“ Yes, nearlv all of it.” .• r • 

Captain Vaughan was silent, then he said: 
“ I expect your lawyer can give you better 
information about them than I can. Sometimes 

. r «~ 1 • ’ r . 1 1 v*. . • T 1 ' • 1 i I f 


the tide turns, and things look up when they’ve 
been about as bad as they can be,” 

“ I can see you thinlk badly of them.” 

j j- 

“If you want the truth, I do: but do not 

worry yourself unnecessarily. Wait until you 


A Calamity 215 

have had a good talk with your lawyer. Are 
you coming back to us? ” 

“If — if things are satisfactory,'’ said 
Heather with knitted brow. 

* j f • .1 t f r r . * f * ' pT 1 T < ft i r • • , • ' * 1 f * < ' *■ * J ; ■ < « > - | ' j * i 

They were at the station. Captain Vaughan 
saw to her comforts, and, as he shook hands- 

9 1 • 1 4 ? * 

the last thing, said : 

C \ » f I • 

“ My best wishes, Miss Foteringay. And 
after all remember money is not happiness. 
There are other things left.” 

“It is an anxiety,” said Heather with a 
smile, and as she was borne away by the ex- 
press, her thoughts went back to the day she 
had first separated from Bluebell nearly a 
twelvemonth ago. 

“ Then it was want of money took me home. 
Now it is the same thing. I almost wish I had. 
none to lose ! ” 

A week after, Ena received the following 

• . # j 

letter from Heather: — 

1 . v j : Ivor 1 . o * ft •„ 1 ' - .41 

“ Dearest Ena,— I sent pou such a hastp line, telling 
pou of mp safe arrival, that I am ashamed I have not 
written since. Truth to tell, I have been so worried and 
uncertain about our affairs, that I felt I could tell you 
nothing. I have had several interviews with Mr. Brody, 
and now I can tell pou definitelp that Bluebell and 1 
have lost nearlp the whole of our income. X can hardly 
realise it, even as I write it. This house must be sold. 

1 shall have barely forty pounds a year to live upon, but 


216 Heather’s Mistress 

I must be thankful for that. Of course, Bluebell wants 

* 7 

■ 

me to go and live with her, but I feel I cannot do it — 
Abagail and Rachel have been so kind — so has everp- 
body. I think I feel most for our poor people. How 
I should love to have pou to talk to about things. At 
first I thought I could live on in our farm, but it is not 
paying as it ought, and we shall have to sell that too. 

I have no light at present upon my future. I lie awake 
at night and wonder, and try to believe that it is all 
right. Don’t you think this may be God’s way of pre- 
paring me for some special work ? He has taken away 
my home from me. I am trying to discover what I am 
tit for. My education has not been a modern one. A 
governess is out of the question. A companion or 
mcther’s hely may be more in my line,' but I don’t know. 
Can you give me any advice? Remember, I must earn 
my living. I cannot help telling you of an interview I 
have just had with Watty. ‘ Ay. well, Miss Heather, 
’tis a proper break-down to ye, bus us will hope some un 
will come along and patch ye up a bit. Some of your 
fine Lunnon folks might do somethin’ for ye ! ’ ‘ Thank 

you, Watty,’ I said, with all the dignity I could assume; 

* but I don’t feel at all broken down. I have health and 
strength, and hands and feet to work, and I shall soon 
be earning my livinglike most of you.’ ‘Well, to be 
sure!’ he ejaculated, ‘and what piay you be thinkin’ 
of? ’ Then, with a burst of generosity, he added: ‘ Tell 
you what. Miss Heather — ye can’t be spared from this 
'ere village. If ye’ll put up with my wife’s tantrums, 
and. like a humble lodgin’ wi’ us, I’ll let you do turn- 
about with me of a carryin’ them letters, for since this 
'ere Lunnon post-master has given the public leave to 
send such vollims of their trashy < writin’s for a penny, 
my old back just cracks wi’ the weight on ’em! Turn- 
about wi’ the carryin’ — turn-about wi’ the pay ! And 
it’ll keep you from the Union, Miss Heather, so let us 


A Calamity 

1 "■ » . ■ *.■ j • • 


217 


rs 

\ w 


settle 
ter 


tie it right away ! ’ I think I hurst him by my laugli- 
, but I was very near tears ! No more for now. Cyril 
is so good. He is coming down to see about the sale 
of everything for me, and am going to lodge at the farm 
for the present, for I think Annie and her husband will 
be allowed to keep it on under their fresh landlord. Sir 
Thomas Black is going to buy it. Much love, and kind 
regards to Captain Vaughan. Your loving 

“ Heather. 

“ This is a dull letter, but don’t think I am perfectly 
hopeless. I feel any troubles that come now will be 
light compared with what they would vave been, a year 


ago. 


9 9 


; 1 




./ 1 1 


I - Mill vli 


.MI 


1 f 

J . t 


“ She is a dear child,” said Ena to her 

f t a • ■ 

brother after she had told him the contents of 
the letter. “ I always think happiness will come 
to her; she tries to do her duty so bravely. It 

does seem as if her sister has had all the sun- 

• ; ' 

shine and she the shade. She is such a lonely 
little thing with no relatives to look after her. 
What would you say, Bertram, to her coming 

, 1 • • , 1 > i ' . 1 ! • 1 // h 5 • 

to live with us. 

... » > * 
t r t • • ' ■ • , i j ■ t j ( t 9 r • r I ( i r • / 

Captain Vaughan looked at his sister gravely. 

— * 1 1 , i v . 

u I scarcely think she would do it,” he said. 

; “ Why not? I should love to have her. She 

makes me forget my helplessness so. ' She has 

such a quick quiet way of seeing what I want. 

. n » 0 

and doing it before I have time to express the 
wish.” . ... bi-to // » n 

“ You would ask her as a paid companion? ” 

>i r : ' , • -it •• • • > U.- :: ' ' 


2 I 8 


I « 

Heather’s Mistress 


“ Now, Bertram, do you think I would? She 
is too proud, I fear, for that. I should like 
her to come back to finish her visit, and then 
drift on into staying with us altogether. You 
are so silent. Would you dislike her here?” 

Captain Vaughan gave a short laugh that 
seemed to his sister rather constrained. 

.. 1 r ; 1 • 1 i • • 1 f . i ’ ' • : I ! i , ’ ’ 

“ My dear Ena, if you would like her that is 
quite enough. I am out so much that her 
presence really hardly affects me. You can 
ask her if you like, but I am of the opinion 
that she will decline the invitation.” 

• - * ! •• v, ; r ; • : f , ■ i ■ . : • 7 ' > ; * j . 1 *.* ■ . . : ■ 

Captain Vaughan was right. Ena begged 
Heather to come to them directly the sale was 
over, but she wrote saying it was impossible. 

“ I promise to come to you before I start my 

^ « ) i * » **• 

independent life,” she wrote, “but I must settle 
my future before paying any visits.” 


7 / 


i 7 1 1 < • j 


And with this Ena had to be content. 

• - 1 J ' ji/t 

A month passed and then Heather wrote 

* ' 1 ‘ ’ :.M '< I J ! ' ; 1 I ' rm-.wTJ, J 


again 


. i 


> 


Ml 




t f 

• M I J r i 


Iff' f : i 7l3:.mrv ; . 


I 


“ You will be glad to hear that through the exertions 
of Cousin da, I have found a berth. An old lady* a 
frjend of hers, is going abroad for the winter ip. Sep- 
tember, and wants a companion. I have, been up to 
London to see her, and she has approved of me. She is 
a thorough woman of the world, and a little irascible in 
temper. Do you think I am right in accepting this post? 
I shall not be plunged into society, for she told me she 


219 


A Calamity 

liked her companions to keep themselves in the back- 
ground ! But I cannot help hoping I may be a comfort 
to her, and perhaps may be given opportunities of work 
amongst those in my own class, as you have so often 
suggested. Bluebell is a little vexed about it, but I 
cannot be dependent upon any one. I do not feel at my 
age that it is right. I am going to stay with Bluebell 
for a month now, and then if you will have me, I should 
like to come to you before going abroad.” 

“ Well,” remarked Ena as she folded up the 
letter, “ I suppose she is right to go, but I 
cannot bear to think of her in such a position. 
She is too young, too pretty, and too refined to 
be turned into an old woman's slave.” 

p > r r * * i 1 * 

Her brother made no reply. He seemed 


absorbed in 

his 

newspaper. 

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1 ' ■ fl PC ' 

CHAPTER XVII 

'l : ' ! ' 1 

; '' i( IN THE OLD GARDEN 

' 1 ' • ' '• • " •' «.r ■ ' , ; f ; •; • , 

* f t % * f ■ « * if 

My poverty, but not my will, consents.’ 7 

— Shakespeare. 


<( 


Oi ! : <IU > 




r . 1 


r 1 - r:r, j;n - T 1 » am / 


r r 


sir •* 



T was Heather’s last day in her native vil- 


lage. She stood in the deserted garden 
of her home, and her heart ached at the 

* * t • r * . 


thought of leaving it all. The sale was over. 
Straw and paper littered the gravel paths ; the 
shutters were closed, and the house lay in the 
shadows of the old elms, dark and silent, having 
finished a long chapter of its life; the family 
that had moved within its walls for over sixty 
years had left it forever, and a new era had 
already begun. Heather had been saying good- 
bye to the villagers, and it was hard work pre- 
serving her bright demeanour. Now she felt 
she could let herself go, and leaning her head 
down on the old sun dial, she sobbed as if her 
heart would break. 

The sun shown down, the blackbird in the 
laurels sang as sweetly as in days gone by, the 


220 


f ' 

J .1 J . 


•I 


In the Old Garden 


' O' 

221 


, • J , i L J LI 

bees hummed lazily over the roses -and peonies, 

and nature seemed supremely indifferent to the 

grief in its vicinity. Heather was not the only 

one in her sorrow that afternoon. Along the 

■ s J ! : j > J . ; ' • i M ' j ■ , , 1 1 , , ; • r . . 

narrow cinder path that led through the kitchen 

garden, walked Abigail. She was picking bits 

of lavender and sweet herbs with many a sniff, 
‘ ) 0 # * # 

and muttering to herself in an audible under- 

* / 

tone : — 


“ The Lord will comfort His own. ’Tis good 
to be afflicted, and He will care for her. My 
life is nearly over. I could not have gone on 
in service much longer. Me and Rachael have 
saved, and we will make our home together, 

• ■ • i ! ' : i : : . • r f , ° 

please God. But my heart aches over that 
child. ’Twas here she used to run, and Miss 
Bluebell with her, when they were little trots, 
and liked to pick the parsley for Rachael. I 

can see them now, and the mistress watchin’ 

■ 

them from the window. Ay well, she would be 
sorely grieved if she were to see us now, and 
’tis to be hoped she does not. .But she would 
be glad to see Miss Heather growin’ into a good 

. f r ' ■ , ’ ' . ! . r I 1 

and sober woman. I daren't think of Miss 

iiu ) \" "( Ulh ** ' j I y * L / G ‘j { lOfiliPO 

Bluebell. She has chosen the broad road, and 
her heart is full of vanity. .. May the Lord in 
His mercy bring her to a right mind and show 
her her sins and wickedness ! ” 


222 


i V* 


Heather’s Mistress 

rnrvifuJ bl U orn pi 


Heather's thoughts were with Bluebell, too. 

• * ■ - 

She felt it keenly that her sister had left her to 
break up their home alone. Cyril had indeed 


1 1 * * 


been a help, but he had only stayed a couple 

'it if ( ) 

of days, and the bulk of the work had fallen 

TT 1 ' , . . . -r-w, 1 1-1 1 1 .ft 

on Heather s shoulders. Bluebell had written 


sympathisingly, but said she would be in town 

! 1 . HI ,7 - ; ! i 

the week of the sale, or she would have tried 

i‘ .oicumm nx> (if i tor tju < ,j n n i 

to go to her. 

“ I am sure,” she wrote, “ it can be no grief to you to 
shut up that house. It never has had happy associations 
to me, though of course it has been our home. My only 
memories are of always being pounced upon by Abigail, 
and lectured, if ever we were tring to enjoy ourselves. 
You will be far happier from it. You must come and 
live with me, and perhaps after another season in town 

* * ' « I *f U . 4 t . : < . * If* > I [ , , . 

you will meet your fate. I am not at all anxious about 
your future, so don’t worry about it.’ 




. 




. 


i rrrj 


Wise advice, perhaps; but Heather felt her 
. sister understood her less than ever since her 


rnri:.)j 


marriage. Even Cyril seemed to guess at her 

feelings better. Just before he left, he said: 

r,n < 1 

u I wish you would come right away with 
me instead of staying on here. It is not nt 


noon 


. -j-sr-pjrti mw t3rnr>9i 

work for vou. 

Ip, jo >r.mj 


. >J . 


llflB 


r “ I cannot leave vet. It is impossible.’' 

bo a+iru l u n ' : " ' n no o t a nd] 

Why have you all the grit, I wonder, atm 

-Trjj vnTA ./ i M VuT 

Minnehaha . none ? She takes life as easily as 

V' : • ■; ■■ .rp ' „ s • ) y ’ v. . *f ■ : * i ‘ 


you do seriously.” 


;f I nor f 


In the Old Garden 


223 


“ Don’t spoil her, Cyril,” Heather said rather 
earnestly. “Bluebell has depths in her that can 
only be stirred by emergencies or trouble, and 
I hope she will not have that. She has not a 
butterfly heart, whatever her manner may lead 
you to believe: I sometimes wish life had not 

been made so easy to her.” 


.no rr 


»ri : 


vt\T 


‘UJ 


“ Wayward as the Minnehaha, 

With her moods of shade and sunshine, 

Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, > 
Feet as rapid as the river, 

Tresses flowing like the water 
And as musical a laughter, 
f u .uh t ! J odcJ r/MV bid HxD rfli // 


rrjn< )j 


“ I find she bears out that description exactly, 
and I am- very well satisfied with my wife as 
tshe ./obr 0 »>. n i i v ; n > ■ 7/ 

“That is only as you ought to be,’’ said 

Heather smiling. “ But if you want her to 
show more grit,- as you express it, : you must 
let her share some of your responsibility.” 

“ Ah, well, that will come in time,” then with 
change of tone he added: “ I hope things may 
turn out better than you expect. You are very 
plucky over it. I suppose you flarclly realise 
your misfortune with so much to do and to 
see to.” rf d ) *iol itio f two !i HacbrflH 

“ I don’t think I can ever forget it,” said 

Heather With gravity. Then she added with'a 


224 Heather’s Mistress 


smile: “ You must remember earthlv comforts 

** *■ •/ 

are not so much to me as they used to be. I 
have something now that I cannot lose.” 

“ Ah, )^es, 1 know. Well, I thought some 
months ago I had got hold of life differently, 
but it was a passing emotion, fancy. We are 
impressionable creatures sometimes,; even we 
men.” 

\ i... ■ : 'Tf ; // 

Then. Heather looked him straight in the 
face. 


“ Will you tell me how you saw life differ- 
ently, Cyril? Did you come into real touch 
with God? Did you take Christ to be your 
Saviour and Master? ” t 

Cyril stroked his moustache consideringly. 

“ Well, you put it so crudely. I hardly got 
to those lengths. But I seemed to see we were 
not meant to live mere animal lives, and ought 
to bring glory to our Creator/’ 

“ And you never got any further? ” 

“ I think I meant to look into the matter, but 
Minnehaha came into my life, and we — well we 
haven’t the time you know for quiet meditation. 


Are you going to preach to me, Regina ? ’ 

“ No, but I pray a good deal that you and 
Bluebell may be out and out for Christ. You 
will never bring glory to your Creator till you 
accept the work of His Son, and own Him as 


In the Old Garden 

■f }?\ fv; UHl.T.tit) * I 




225 


your Saviour, and take Him to be your King. 
J \ . 

It is dishonouring to God to refuse allegiance 
to the One He sent into the world to be our 
King. Forgive my plain speaking, but you do 
not know how I long that those I care for 
should experience the peace and happiness in 
their souls, that has been given to me.” 

She said no more, but Cyril Carter went 
away more impressed by her words than he 
would care to allow. 

Now as Heather, with tearful eyes, raised 
her head from the dial and looked at the empty, 
deserted house for the last time, her thoughts 
were still with Bluebell. 

t j * 

“ She and I will never be the same again to 


4f[j 


each other as we have been in this old garden. 

* V};' 


Our girlhood seems a thing of the past. 1 
feel a woman now in experience, and I dread 
seeing how changed she is, when I stay with 
her. Oh, why need changes come so fast? 
Nothing will ever be the same to me again now 

o o 


U , 


I have lost my home ! ” 

i(j . I 

She started when Abigail touched her elbow. 
“ Miss Heather, don’t take on so. His the 

•»*,<») :j .«“!<•' , 1 : ; ’ . -..ft "* - 1 i ' ) • 1 1 

Lord’s doin’, and ye’ll be givin’ Him praise one 
day for this very trouble.” 

‘‘ Shall I?” 

Heather looked up with a tearful smile. 


226 


Heather’s Mistress 


“ Don’t be hard on me,” she added, “ I came 

• • « j ! 1 

here to have my cry out alone. I did not know 

< ■ ' ' f ^ , * \ i ' ^ f J ' 

you would be here, Abigail.” 

“ Ah well, I was havin' a look round, and the 
old times has come up and near overwhelmed 

me. Miss Heather, my words may have been 

’ ' . ' ' - ■ ; - J ; 

hard to you at times, but my heart has always 
held you tight, and it will to my dyiir day! ” 

A choke in her voice, made Heather glance 
at her astonished, and then in a moment the 
faithful old servant had gathered her into her 
arms like a little child, and was sobbing her 
heart out over her. 

* ’ ' v v / 1 r t ] » i j p it 

At last ashamed of her display of feeling, she 

» • 

turned gruffly away; but Heather kissed the 
worn old cheek very tenderly before she let 
, her go. 

“ I shall never have another faithful friend 
.like you, Abigail/’ she said, “ t is nice to feel 

■ j r ' ‘ ‘ )J t \ { J / } , I ‘ J l 

you care so. There are times lately when I 
have felt that there is no one left to care what 

; j ; f : . r a ‘ ! ■ i 

becomes of me.” 

. 

A few days afterwards, and Heather was in 
Bluebell’s country home. The sisters were glad 
to be together; but the house was full of guests 

•> t 

that they had little opportunity .for talk alone. 

Heather watched her sister dispensing her 
hospitality, and entertaining all her husband’s 


In the Old Garden 227 

3237J2I IVI 2 '1*3 H 8 £ £ 

friends with her pretty graciousness, and won- 
dered if she had ever a thought beyond the 
present. Sometimes she fancied Bluebell eluded 

r r f* | r i • » • » * 

close talk with her, and she could only pray, 

r • 

and try not to withhold her testimony if oppor- 
tunity favoured it. 

* f > , 1 . , , 

One evening after dinner, as the ladies were 

i ' r r 1 ... 

in the drawing-room by themselves, conversa- 
tion turned upon old Mrs. Macintyre with 

• *s 

whom Heather was going abroad. , 

“ I am told she is an awful old tartar; ” said 
Lady Robertson, a vicious young bride, who 
seemed to carry with her plenty of society gos- 
sip, “ and she gambles dreadfully. I knew a 
girl who lived with her for a time. She gives 
her companions a handsome allowance, but 

* t ? i ' 

compels them to play cards with her every 
evening; she always manages to win, and the 
poor creatures find their salary making its way 
back into the old lady’s pockets; I am told she 
meditates going to Monte Carlo this year. I 
pity the slavey who goes with her.” 

Bluebell gave a little sign to Heather not to 

* • 

speak, but she ignored it, and said frankly : 

“ Thank you for your pity, Lady Robertson. 

I am going with her, I believe.” 


“ Good gracious ! 
not as her companion 

* !>.<; > ;}» Off /' i <t 1; f ; 


You don’t say so! 
? ” 


But 




1 

1 


fisb'lfiO hi 

228 Heatner’s Mistress 

- i i < / # / » . ■ , jfi ■ jf.t" ' “f iljiv*' darini 

o 

“ Yes. You know we have lost a good bit of 
our money.” j, . h , 

“ It is a freak of hers,” said Bluebell, a little 
crossly; k ‘ I want her to stay with me, but she 
will be independent. I am sure a month of old 
Mrs. Macintyre will send her back to us.” 

“ Well, if you take my advice you will get 
out of that card playing,” said Lady Robertson. 

“ I don’t think there is any fear of her doing 
that/’ said Bluebell laughing,” is there, 
Heather ? ” 


!••):*) • 1: {. >■ r \ x\ i *■, . 

“ No, certainly not. If such a thing had been 

mentioned to me, I should have declined going 

' 1 

with her,” said Heather, with decision. 

" Why? Do you object to card playing?” 

“ Oh, Heather is a good person,” said Blue- 
bell laughing; “ of course she does. I think 
she considers all amusements wrong. I should 
enjoy seeing her tackle Mrs. Macintyre on the 
subject. 

“ Are you good? ” asked a girl, Laura Kent 
by name; “I remember you. were not at all 
prudish in your first season? ” 

“ I hope I am not prudish now,” said 
Heather with a rising colour. “ I don’t feel 

SO. :• . ' • ‘ 

“ You don’t look it,” said; Lady Robertson, 
good naturedlv. ” I have an aunt who is dread- 


In the Old Garden 229 

/] 3 730 


fully good. She drags religion into every sen- 
tence, until she sickens everyone with it. Mow 
I am not against religion myself, but it is not 
a thing to be talked about.’ ’ 

“ I think there are times,” said Heather, 

.... 

“ when it is desirable to mention it. But it 
depends upon circumstances. I used to think 
all mention of religion was out of place, but if it 
is the most real thing* in our lives, why should 
it be? ” 


“ It’s a very shadowy thing to me,” said 

. 

Laura, thoughtfully. 

“ It wouldn’t be, if you got hold of the real 
thing,” said Heather quietly. 

“ But what is the real thing? Nothing 
seems real now-a-days. Everything is just a 
mere hobby which gets ridden to death, until a 
fresh one comes along.” % 

“ I suppose real Christianity is living our 
lives in touch with Christ, and having the con- 
sciousness of His presence in everything that 
we do or say.” 

“No one could live like that, unless you were 
always in church or retired to a convent,” said 
Lady Robertson with a slight yawn. 

“ And how can any one arrive at such a 
stage even then? ” queried Laura, turning her 
honest grey eyes upon Heather with interest. 


O ^ ' 

230 

• r ioi 


Heather’s Mistress 


>70 . » 


f!< )i 


•( 


1 1 


. X X ; < 7- 


But at this moment the gentlemen entered, 
and Bluebell gave a sigh of relief. 

*5 fa 

“ Come along/’ she said gaily; “we were 
just forgetting that we were a set of frivolous 
women whose after-dinner talk always consists 
in picking one another to pieces. We were 

■ > ’ 1 * '■ ■ . ■ A : * . ‘ .* ; j • 1 ’ i J " i * I ; ‘ j ) , • 

actually getting into deep theology. Let us 
have some music.” 

I » » r ‘ 

That short conversation brought Heather 
into close contact with Laura Kent. She came 
to her bedroom afterwards, and had a long talk 
with her. And before Heather left her sister's, 

: L d l i J _! * / ’ r ’ l|hl ! ■ // t J 

one restless, dissatisfied soul had found its way 

; > f . J 

into the true path of peace. 

She began to see now, that even in society, 
there are many who need a helping hand and 
word. 






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■ ■ ' : ; ■ ' ’ ■ ' • 

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if* * > 

1 1 ' . j < 


CHAPTER XVIII 

! / * ) \ i 1 » i * » • I ; i : j : l ; *_>i . 

WITH FRIENDS AGAIN 

“Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul! 
Sweetner of life, and solder of society, 

I owe thee much.” — Blair. 

• f 

J 1 - . ... f - i < V i . 

A GAIN Heather found herself at the 
Priory, for a farewell visit before she 
went abroad. It was autumn, and the 
roses and dahlias brightened the old house with 
their rich colouring. As she stood on the lawn 
by Ena’s side the first morning after her ar- 
rival, she gave a little sigh of happiness. 

“ It is good to be here,” she said; “ and I am 
going to enjoy my time with you to the full; 
so that I shall look back with pleasure to 
this visit, when I am abroad this coming 
winter.” 

“ I wish you were not going,” said Ena. 

“ Please don’t make me dissatised. I have 

■ 

decided that it is right to go, so we will not 
talk about it.” 

“ That is Regina’s tone,” said Ena laughing, 
for she had heard of Cyril’s nickname, and 

231 


1 1 


w K 


232 


Heather’s Mistress 


u 


4 4 


sometimes used it herself. Heather laughed 
witli her, then said a little wistfully : 

“ Don’t think me headstrong. I have had to 
decide things myself, and no one else can judge 
for me. I think I am being taught more and 
more that I must stand alone. ” 

Never alone, Heather.” 

No,” said Heather colouring, “ not in the 
sense you mean, and that is my greatest com- 
fort.” 

She changed the subject, and began asking 
Ena about her friends. Presently Captain 
Vaughan came up. 

“ I am off on a fishing expedition, Miss 
Fotheringay; • won’t you bring Ena out this 
afternoon and meet me at the pool below St. 

f • 

Margaret’s? I shall work down the river that 

„ yy 

way. 

“ I should like to very much, 'if -you feel up to 
it, Ena.” 

(’ • f t ' | * » ' * r . . , I , t i; . , A 

“ Yes, I shall manage very well, and we will 

take the kettle in the bottom of my chair, and 

• • 

have tea down there. It is an exquisite day.” 

So it was settled, and soon after lunch they 
started, Jack in high feather, at having the 
‘'charge of the h’expedition,” as he ex- 
pressed it. 

St. Margarets was a ruined convent beneath 


With Friends Again 233 


a wooded hill-side, and in a most exquisite hol- 
low close to the river, which dashed over grey 
boulders of rock, arched in by overhanging 
trees. Ferns of the rarest kind grew in pro- 
fusion along its banks, and Ena's chair was 
drawn up into a mossy glade, a little way from 
the rush of the water. There was no sign of 
Captain Vaughan when, they got there, and 
Heather flitted about gathering fir cones and 
dry sticks, to kindle the fire, with girlish de- 
light. Jack helped her with his usual dignity, 
and amused her with his remarks. 

“ It h’appears too damp a h’atmosphere to 
Ir ignite as it should," he said, watching her 
unavailing efforts to create the flame. 

But Heather persevered, and soon had the 
satisfaction of seeing the flames curl and 
crackle round the kettle. 

“ Isn’t it delicious here," she said presently, 
throwing herself down on the grass by Ena’s 
side. “ It makes one feel at peace with all man- 
kind.” 

t * 

Ena was busy with her sketching block. She 
was a clever artist, and was rapidly filling in 
the nook in front of her. 

■ r i * t : 

“ Now, Heather, dear, go a little farther 
away, and I will put you in. There — just so! 


I will not trouble you long.” 




7T/0‘ 


234 


Heather’s Mistress 


“ You must give it to me as a memento, only 
I should like your figure in it, not mine/ ’ 

Just as the sketch was being finished Captain 
Vaughan appeared. He had had a successful 
day, and turned out his fish with some pride 
before his sister’s eyes. Then, lounging on the 
grass by her side, he looked at her sketch, and 
Heather springing up, busied herself about the 

1 ■ - . > « , I . f J 

tea. 

< 

“ I have told Ena,” she said to Captain 
Vaughan, “ that if I am to keep that sketch I 
would rather she figured in it than I. Her own 
position and background is quite a picture, and 
I long to sketch it myself.” 

“Don’t you sketch at all?” asked Captain 
Vaughan a little lazily. 

No, I have no talents — except perhaps 


u 


n 


music. But I got disheartened when I was in 

town over that. Bluebell and I were brought 
# 

up in the old-fashioned style, and my harp- 

i 

playing seemed to most, very extraordinary, I 
know.” 

“ I will try my hand at a sketch,” said Cap- 
tain Vaughan, taking block and pencil out of 

his sister’s possession, in his slow, deliberate 

... 

way. - . ; ;• 

And by the time tea was served round, he 
had sketched Ena in her chair, with the back- 
ground of rocks and overhanging green, with 


d 


With Friends Again 235 

' : j . : . ; • • \*r! . 

such a true and skilful touch, that Heather was 

1 1 1 • : / v -\: • 

delighted. 


! ! ‘ - 


“ It is you exactly, isn’t it, Ena? ” It is for 
me ? Oh, thank you. When I am on the Med- 
iterranean with my old lady I shall often look 
at it.” 

w • , . . ; 

A little sigh escaped her, but she changed it 

♦ . . i 1 : . J I • > 

into a laugh, as she went on: “ Bluebell ad- 

vises me to keep a diary, and call it k Views of 
Riviera Life by One in the Background.’ She 
says if I was very racy in my description ot 

people and things, I could get it printed, and 
Mudie would take it. I am afraid it would be 

a strong temptation to present my charge in a 
ludicrous light. Her very appearance is awe- 
inspiring. She is a conglomeration of colour 
and scent, and always wears white kid gloves. 

“ I want you to have some people to dinner 
this week, Ena,” said Captain Vaughan rather 
abruptly. 

Heather often fancied her friends and inter- 

f j . f . ' 1 

ests bored him, and she was always sorry when 
she became communicative in his presence. 

Who are they?” asked Ena. 

He is a friend I met in Rome some years 
ago. He is a dabbler in archaeology and 
antiquities, and he married a Miss Phillips. 
Pier father is the noted sculptor. They are 


a 


a 


2 3 6 


Heather’s Mistress 


r 

A . 4 - * 




staying with the Gregorys; of course you must 
ask them, too.” 

, > ; *•' j 

“ V r ery well. How would Friday suit you? 
Or is it too short notice ? 

r/ an ri iff yr yj rf CJfl T fjj[ j ** 

As brother and sister were discussing the 
subject, Heather wandered off by herself along 
the river-side. She had a keen love of all that 

' ‘ > ' • ' ( f r, j r | ; ■ , | j > » < ■ ■ .j > [ r '<>.v tf 1 1 ' 

was beautiful in nature, and this quiet, peaceful 
spot seemed to soothe and quiet her anxious 
spirit. For though outwardly brave over her 
future, she had many qualms and fears about it. 
She could not forget the conversation at her 
sister’s, over the eccentric old lady who was to 
give her a home, and she viewed her gambling 
propensity with the greatest horror. Would 
she be able to stand her ground and re- 

n ; 

fuse to participate in the nightly play? Ought 

* • 1 > „ j ) ’ J * • • 

she to acquaint the old lady with her principles, 
and let her know she could not oblige her on 
this point? Yet as nothing had been said to 

j 

her about it, when she was engaged, it might 

• • * ‘ ' ■' 1 ■ ‘ .J * » . ^ f - i " • 

after all be merely exaggerated gossip. Weigh- 

ing the matter to and fro in her mind, Heather 
walked on. She crossed the river by a slender 

• .'•■>•, # , , • , . i ; 

plank and then climbed up into the fir-woods 

• » , j • P ^ f ,A I*— | 

above, thinking she would catch sight of the 

t i . ' ♦ O o i£ ' » ♦ ,,•»(;( ^ ... * t \ } j 

others below. But she had miscalculated the 

•< 


‘>i j 


Ui\ h 


* x : x. i .♦ i. * > i>v' l ft v ^ 

With Friends Again 237 

}jji i >;f ot ^ iri ; yyju?. s>ik. <:a[)4 

distance, and when she turned to retrace her 

steps, the many winding paths in the wood 
confused her, and she missed her bearings alto- 
gether. For some time she struggled to reach 
the river, but the dense foliage below prevented 
her from seeing it, and she at last stopped in 
despair. 

“ It is ridiculous to think that I am lost,” she 
said half laughing, half vexed; “ they will 
wonder where I am. I shall not trust to these 

J J X 1 .• > t I . j . J 1 f l 1 i j , 0 . ‘ r_j 1 } 1 ’ , y 1 i , 

paths any longer. If I clamber straight down, 

I must come to the river and then I shall find 

. 

my way.” f- 

With this resolve she started her downward 

■ • 4 n 1 . 1 r « * j ■ 7 * . t , ! j : j ' T v * 1 

t ; ■ 

path through brambles and undergrowth, and 
then suddenly without a warning the slippery 
soil below her feet gave way, and down she 
rolled, over and over with increased force and 

>j r i 

swiftness till unconsciousness came to her aid, 
and she knew no more. When she at length 
opened her eyes she found herself lying against 
a fallen tree about twenty feet above the river, 
which dashed along as merrily as ever. Her 
head felt bruised and aching, and when she 
tried to raise herself, she found her left arm 

• 1 ' ■ * • ' ' i 

doubled under her, and giving her exquisite 
pain when she moved it. After several strug- 


Heather’s Mistress 


i shH rftiW 


ST 


238 

_ 

gles she succeeded in getting to her feet, and 
then she found she had cut her forehead in her 
fall . 77 


:>r >i in 


r . ^rrrimrA 


•rr 


With one hand she tried to stop the bleeding 
and bandage it, but she became so faint that 
she was obliged to reseat herself on the ground 
and wait for assistance. She tried to call out, 
but she was still too dazed with her fall to put 
much energy into her cries. 

* * • * 7 I 

It was a happy moment when in the distance 

• • • 

she heard the sound of footsteps, and the 
crackling of the dead twigs underfoot told her 
that some one was approaching. And when 

t • 

she saw the brown fishing-suit of Captain 
Vaughan through the trees, she called out for 


fur 


help with fresh vigour. 

In another moment he was by her side.' 

“ I have been scouring the wood for you,'' 
he said cheerily. "Have you lost yourself? 

. * f 1 * t 

Ena has gone on. I persuaded her to, though 

. f . f V 

she was loth to do it, but it was getting late. 
Not hurt, are you? ” 

He was leaning over her now, and weak and 
unnerved Heaither was struggling against tears. 
" I’ve had a : tumble,” she said with quivering 

v f • r r f i 

lip, “ and Eve hurt my arm. I almost think it 
must be broken.” 


•‘crn i* \wv:> /') ' 


)i hove fn or If. itoflv/ rrh;q 


With Friends Again 239 


“Let me see it. Ah! Don’t move. We 
must put it in a sling till it can be seen to.” 

• ! r . 1 

Captain Vaughan was not easily nonplused. 

. r ; 1 j r, / • • 

He slipped out of his pocket a large silk hand- 

kerchief, and in two minutes had made an 

1 •; , t ► ■ /'■ ■ 1 * < • . • ' iotnr 1 l * i r j * li ■ • 

impromptu sling. Then as deftly and quietly 

as a woman he took, her own handkerchief and 

• n • , . . ; * . : ■ i 1 1 .. ; 

bound up her forehead. 

: 

“ Now sit still,” he said quietly, “ and drink 
this. And then we will see about getting 

1 ,, " • . ; • •• ■ • « 

home. 

He produced his flask, and Heather did as 

* * ' r 1 ’ * ■ y r ’ 

she was told, and the colour crept back into her 

, , , ; 1 t ' , ’ ,j ^ ■ 

lips and cheeks. 

In a short time she was able to walk, though 
in great pain. Captain Vaughan took good 
care of her, and though talking cheerily all the 

U 11 1 1 • J111 

time, made her take his arm and led her as 


gently as possible along the river bank. 

Heather strove to be cheerful, and when they 
at last reached the Priory she turned to him 


O’ ! 


.,,1 , 1 1 • 1 ’ r > I ; 

with tears in her eyes. 

“ I can’t thank you, Captain Vaughan. You 
have been so good to me. 

( i r~\ 1 1 *ji i • ■ < < • , j i. 

Oh, nonsense, he said, laughing; it is not 
much I have been able to do. Come in and lie 

3 >rf 1 

down. I will send that young scamp Tack for 


240 


Heather’s Mistress 


the doctor. Here, Ena, we have a patient on 
our hands, but I hppe it is nothing seri- 


ous. 




It was not serious. She was bruised and 

■ ' . • ( ! : ; • -j 

shaken by the fall, and had broken a small bone 
in her arm; but quiet and complete rest for a 
few days did wonders, and she was almost 

herself again in ten days’ time. 

. * 

“ You are too good to me, Ena,” she said to 

her friend one afternoon, when she insisted 

upon her resting on the sofa in her morning* 

room, and brought her some grapes and a book 

to amuse herself with. “ Think how I shall 

miss all this attention soon.” 

“ The more reason you should have a little of 

it now,” said Ena, playfully. Then she added 

seriously : “I would give anything to have you 

here altogether. I have become so dependent 

on your society, that when you are away I feel 

inexpressibly lonely.” 

' But you have your brother.” 

. ' 

He is out a great deal. Oh, I know I ought 

o ' v 0 

not to complain, and I am never unhappy, only 
I think having you about me has made me feel 
not quite such a hopeless and incurable invalid.” 

It was seldom Ena touched upon her infirm- 

. . ■ 

ity. Heather looked wistfully at her. 

If I come back with my old lady next spring 


a 


a 


rr> I 


With Friends Again 241 


.! 


* ' 1 ' f ( ] n » :> > ■ * \ f I 1 l J 'l * t ' ' ' ' j j ( 1 / 

perhaps you would let me come to you for 
another visit.” 

” You know how delighted I shall be. Oh, 

Heather, dear, why don’t you throw it all up 

- . . : ■ 

and be my companion instead? ” 

Heather smiled and shook her head. 

“ We have argued that out many times. I 
am afraid I am too proud for one thing. 1 
must and will be independent of my friends, 
even of my sister, who is only too anxious I 

• If* | , . . - *■ *> 

should make my home with her.” 


u 


I don’t believe we were brought together 


to be separated so soon,” Ena went on, leaning 
back in her, chair and looking out upon the 
lawn with dreamy eyes. 

“ We were brought together that you might 
be the means of bringing me a big blessing,” 
said Heather, stretching out her hand to her 
friend. “ If we drift apart on earth, we shall 
have eternity together.” 

“ Yes, but I have a strong feeling that we 
shall not be allowed to drift apart,” was the 
quick response. 

“ We will hope not. At all events we can 
write to each other. I often think how good 
God has been to me, Ena. Just at the time 
when I was missing Bluebell so intensely, He 
sent you into our neighbourhood. It does look 


242 Heather’s Mistress 


as if you were meant to take her place. I don’t 
think I could have borne her being gradually 
taken away from me if I had not found a friend 
in you. I feel Bluebell will never be the same 
to me again now, as she was before she mar- 
ried.” 

“ Yes,” repeated Ena, smiling, “ and I still 
believe we are meant to live together, and I 

I - r , . ; . . 

am waiting God’s time for that pleasure to 


come. 

I L 




V * f.'i 


1 

« Hi 


70 -- 


Heather shook her head, and changed the 
subject. 


» rr o/o 

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irtvjni :>r; i 
. ' j ; *3ir 


I r 


CHAPTER XIX 


i 


’ll 1 .) 1 i 


, ; ; 

j J •!>•■{ j 
• : !' 
'In for* 1 

t »• 


AN UNEXPECTED OFFER 


/ ! < < 


J * -i 


r« ; p) ii 


• j 


rr. 


• ft 


“Whither my heart has gone, there follows 

My hand, and not elsewhere.” — Longfellozv. 

. : : : / ■ ■ / 


'Jr!; nt« 


Hi )■ r 



rj 


T was a stormy clay. Wind and rain fought 
for predominance, and lashed the old 
trees on the lawn in their fury. The 
casement windows rattled, and the wind howled 
dowtl the chimneys, making even Ena shiver. 

,r . 

It was very near the end of Heather’s visit, and 
she had just received instructions from Mrs. 

> i.i t 

Macintyre as to where and when she was to 
meet her. 

Ena listened and advised, but soon after 
breakfast got such a violent headache that she 
was forced to go to her room to lie down. 

“ Storms always affect me/’ she said; “ if 
I can manage to get to sleep I shall be better. 
Make yourself comfortable over the fire, 
Heather. I think you will hear the wind less 

fj 

in the drawing-room.” 

So to the drawing-room Heather went, ,try- 

I fj; -r • ° ^ ' 

243 


Heather's Mistress 


244 


in g to battle with her depression of spirits. She 
took out Mrs. Macintyre’s letter and re-read it, 
trying to imagine herself in familiar and 
friendly relations with that good lady. The 
postscript did not reassure her. 

“ Do not bring any fancy work of any sort 
with you. I have found it engrosses the 
thoughts too much, and your time is mine 
whilst you are with me. I wish you from the 
first to understand this.” r 

“ It will be slavery,” was Heather’s thought, 
as leaning back in an easy chair she looked into 
the glowing coals in front of her, and tried to 

banish the sounds of the storm without. 

. * 

She remained there deep in thought until, 

^ : r 

with a start, . she was roused b.y Captain 

-V 7 1 9 

Vaughan s voice. 

i( t 7/ 7TV Iv 

“ Are you in a brown study? ” 

Heather laughed a little unsteadily. Captain 
Vaughan came and leant against the old oak 
mantel-piece, looking down upon her, and 

pulling out the ends of his moustache thought- 

t ”:f)T. : rt fZ 

tully. 

■ ( , , • ■ ; i ' • r£a i 

This kind of a day always seems to send 

you women into the blues. Ena has collapsed, 
and you — excuse me for the remark — look as if 
you are going to drown yourself! ’V 

I have no thoughts in that direction,” said 

o , 7 


3 17 Iff n: 

ar' - 


1 : 


An Unexpected Offer 245 

Heather, looking* up at him with a little laugh. 
“ I think I was in dreams. I am sorry to be 
leaving Ena. I have enjoyed my visit so much 
here, and only regret that it is coming to an 
end. 

“ Why do you go ? ” 

“ I must.” 

There was silence. Captain V aughan walked 

✓ 

to the window and looked out, then came back 
to the fire and took up his former position? 

•“ I don’t see why you need go,” he persisted.' 
“ Ena enjoys having you with her, and you do 
her a world of good.” 

“ I could not stay on with her indefinitely,” 
said Heather quietly. 

“ I think you could.” 

Something in his tone made Heather look up. 
There was purpose, and determination in it, 
such as she had never heard him use before. 

“ Would you not like to make this your 
home? ” was his next question. 

Heather felt a little puzzled. 

“ I suppose I might,” she said, “ if I felt it 
right to do so. But I see my way lies differ- 
ently.” 

” I want you to reconsider your decicion. It 
is not too late. I want you to stay here al- 
together, and stay here as my wife! ” 



■» j- 

Heather’s Mistress 


If a thunderbolt had dropped at Heather’s 
feet she could not have felt more astonished. 
She had been accustomed to a great deal of 

attention and admiration when in London, and 

» ♦ * 

the very quietness and polite indifference with 
which Captain V aughan had treated her, made 
her regard him entirely as her friend’s brother, 
and in no other light. 

She looked at him now in complete bewil- 

* • T k 

derment, and his quiet, steady gaze did not help 
her. : ' 

f , i t : 

“Are you joking?” she asked, trying to 
smile. 


“ No,” he said. “ I am in sober earnest.’' 
Heather’s head felt in a whirl. 

» • » V ■ *■*!►»! 

“ Is this for your sister’s sake? ” she asked. 

) # 

“ For my own as well.” 

And then mustering courage Heather rose 

to her feet. 

? ! * i 

“ I am so utterly unprepared for this, Cap- 

• - 

tain Vaughan, that I feel I cannot give you an 
answer at present. Forgive me, but even now 
I am *w6ndering if you are in earnest.” 

“ I cannot do more than give you my word 

♦ p 

as a gentleman that I am.” 

His tone was a little stiff. He added more 


j* . r 


gently : 

“ Don’t act in a hurry. Think it over. I 


An Unexpected Offer 247 

■ I ' • 

believe you would be happy with us. We would 
try to make you so. I know I am much older 
than yourself, but you like our home, and are 
sorry to leave us. Isn’t this a way out of your 
difficulty?’' 

Then Heather looked up, and as simple as a 
child placed her hand in his. 

“ I believe in your kindness of heart,” she 
said. “ Let me think it over.” 

She left the room softly, and after she had 
gone Captain Vaughan paced up and down with 
knitted brows. 

% j * L • j tii.,. r 1 

Heather fled to her room, locked the door, 

» ' ( i ' 

and with a tumult of feeling threw herself into 

' j i * 

the easy chair by the window. Her thoughts 
were these. 

“ Not a word of love! It was* like offering 

me another situation, what does he mean by 

it? If I did not know his past history and 

» 

how self-sacrificing and unselfish he is, I would 
n<$t fear so much. It must be pity for me, love 
for his sister is making him act so ! Oh, 

I couldn’t, I couldn’t ! If I am not wanted for 

- 

my own sake, I will not give myself away. He 
does not seem to reckon love or liking at all in 
the question, nor care to know if I like him 
well enough to link my life to his for good and 
all. And do I like him? Oh, I don’t know. 


248 Heather’s Mistress 

\ $: ' ; )t;0 I • : 


I honour and respect him immensely, but I 
don’t feel I know him. He has depths that he 

’ • j . ,* » r r ^ f j * 

will reveal to no one. He has seemed so calmly 
indifferent to all I do or say, that I can't believe 
he means what he says. Of course I could be 


happy, oh, I know I could, if — if he really 
cared for me. If he was even as tender and 
gentle as I have sometimes seen him with Ena. 
Yet he was that the other day when he found 
me down by the river after" my accident. I felt 
then how good it was to have some one to take 
care of one. He seemed so strong, so reliable. 
Oh, what shall I do? It is such a temptation. 

* , ^ ( • ‘ • 1 * • - /v . 

The right to stay on here in this dear old place, 

the right to make it my home and be shielded 

/ 

and cared for all my life. Tie could not make 

an unkind husband. Need all marriages be love 

r 

ones? And how happy Ena would be. I know 

r . • o 

she would be pleased. I could look after her 
and. make her life a brighter one, I am sure I 
could. If only he seemed to care a little. Jf 
it is simply his unselfish kindness in taking pity 

1 

on my homeless condition, if it is done entirely 
for his sister’s sake, how could I place myself 
in such a humiliating position ! Oh, I don’t 
know what to do ! I wish I had a mother to 

' r » • • * 

talk it over with. I cannot argue it out with 


An Unexpected Offer 


i 


2 49 

■ 1 1 u 

Ena. I wonder if she knows. I don't believe 
she has any idea of it.” 

I- [ i | l_u ^ ; , 

Poor Heather soon got on her knees to ask 

-• ■ , ■ • f. f* i < : i ; ■ ) ' 

for the guidance and help which she felt she so 
much needed at this crisis. 

• “Q m n-rj ) r j j 

It was a great temptation, to her. She felt 

• • i)|, ■ . ^ * i 

unutterably lonely when away from her friend, 

• • i # ' ■ i ; , 

and the prospect of the winter before her was 
not cheering. Yet marriage had not lost its 
sacredness to her ; she knew too well what mis- 
ery so many marriages de convenance brought, 
and her pride recoiled from giving herself away 

i t * • . . . 

unloved. 

The -luncheon bell rang, and she reluctantly 
left her room, hoping that she would not be 
condemned to a tctc-a-tct e meal with the one so 

' j > w » , . p t • < ; - j j 4 ; *4 , j • • ; ' J 1 1 f i 1 ’ i i ' i • h J ; f | j p j ! * r ■ * 

much in her thoughts. This was spared her. 
Ena’s head was better, and she was able to come 

j , ) * , r ( • if - . ; ■ i • • , * , ) ' ; j j f ' ■" ) [ )' ! 

to the table. Captain Vaughan was out, the 
maid told them, and would not return till din- 

. ' j 

ner-time. 

«>(’•'! ■ ; j; ; j . , , , . i 1 ■ j ' r r ! ■ . . p ; f ; ( 

“ Where can he have gone in this storm? ” 
said Ena. He told me he would be indoors 
most of the day. 

” I think it is going to clear,” Heather said, 

* 1 ‘ » ■ J t : : . , . ■ • • • J ♦ . j r ((.)'/ 'j j [ 

looking out of the window, where great masses 

. 

of dark clouds rolled by, and gleams of light 
appeared on the horizon. 


. n 


)f } ; 


04 ^ 

250 


■ : j ( 


ix 


^Heather’s Mistress 


tf TobfIOV/ 


> 1 


“ Perhaps it is. We must hope so. You 

. r > f . ; "t 1 1 

look pale and worried, Heather dear, what have 

.i • , 3 

you been doing with yourself? ” 

I have been in my room most of the 

• » " (1 * 


morning. 


■ . : 

u 




> 1 


Not packing? ” 

No, not yet. I have still two days before 


*> . > 


me. 




” ' . i < J , i i M l , / J n / 

Ena saw she was troubled, but thought it 
was at the idea of her near departure, and 

Heather still felt her mind in such, chaos, that 

* 

t • . 

she could not mention what had passed. 

“ He. is the person to tell her, not I,” she 

L ■ ■ ■ ; ! * * . 

thought. 

The afternoon passed. Ena was at all times 

^ 1 | • 1 1 i . * ■ 

a pleasant companion, and Heather was enough 
versed in self-control to set her feelings aside 
and enter into her friend s interests. 

; } ' i ; ' - 1 . " : i( • j* J Of: j 1 : 

Captain Vaughan made his appearance just 
as they were finishing afternoon tea, and 
Heather slipped quietly out of the room, leaving 
him telling his sister where he had been. 

When she had closed the door behind her, 

• • } " . ‘ j 

Captain Vaughan said abruptly: 

, | | .1 ; 

“ Have you been told anything, Ena? ” 
“No, what?” 

; r • , ■ 1 : 1 * 1 ■ : 

He did not answer for a moment, then he 
said slowly : 


J > ./ ' HI . > 


An Unexpected Offer 251 


“ I asked your little friend to stay on with us 
indefinitely. 

“ Did you really? I’m afraid you did not 

I ' ' ' ' , * 1 ’ i ‘ ’ ■ 

succeed in persuading her to do so.” 

“ I don’t know.” 

Something in his voice made his sister look 

• id 

up. 

“ Now, Bertram, what is it? You're keep- 
ing something back.” 

1 1 ■ 

“ I offered her an extra inducement to stay,” 
was the dry response. 

Ena caught her breath. Her woman’s quick 
wit guessed the truth at once. 

“ Oh, Bertram!” she exclaimed, “If you 

r 1 ■ f k ' ‘f { * r *•*■•*• r • . •• r • ? • , . , - f ; d T * 

care for her I shall have obtained my heart’s 
desire ! ” 

- v • . 4 . 4- . . I V { ' 1 I ‘ ( . ’ V ' 

“ How about her side? ” 

“ Oh, she must, she will say yes. I have se- 

■ ■ • 

cretly longed to be a match-maker. You don't 
know how I have wished to bring you together, 
but you are so silent, and have been particularly 
so in reference to her, that I hardly dared to 
hope it. What did she say ? ” 

• • * • i * , * > 1 *1 1 

“ She has postponed her reply.” 

“ No wonder she has looked so absorbed. 

f j : ' • t [ v •' • k ■ j ^ • \ > • ♦ i . f r j I * ' - > * t ■ 

Why didn’t she confide in me ? I must see her 
at once. Oh, Bertram, I can’t tell you what I 
feel about it ! It is more than I hoped, and 


us 


: r:.;b 

.r v ... 


2 5 2 


Heather’s Mistress 

; ) 


now this dreadful visit abroad must be put an 

; 1 

end to ! But why have you left it so late in the 

• * * 1 k 
day? It might have been too late altogether. 

Will you ring for Jack ? ” 

Ena was quite excited. Her brother listened 

. / f : i ‘ ! I ; 

to her apparently quite unmoved, then, with his 

- 

hand upon the bell, he said quietly : 




I must ask you as a special favour not to 

. ; > t . * 

allude to this matter until after dinner. It will 

be an awkward time for all of us if you do.. I 

. > 

am going out afterwards, so vou will have the 
whole evening to talk oyer it.” 

j i - i . j * 

Ena’s face fell, but she saw the wisdom of her 

* . ■ • . . - •; ' . , • >i : ; ; ' / 

brother’s words. 




As it was, there was a certain constraint upon 

• . ... ' 1 
them all when they met in the dining-room. 

# * 

Captain Vaughan was perhaps the least discom- 

■■ : )_■ ' i • A ' 

posed, and Heather talked away to Ena rather 

• B V • 

more rapidly than usual, as if she dreaded any 

’ • / * > 

pauses m the conversation. 

r . - ■ . , , i • 

It was afterwards in the drawing-room that 

J ' • t ■ ; . 

Ena touched upon the subiect, and her intense 
.• ... *. ■ 
delight in the possibility of the engagement 

made it very difficult for Heather to express her 

1 ‘ " '• ' ' *>■ 

real sentiments. 

She could not let his sister know that she 


’ r r 


doubted his reality of feeling about it, and she 
sighed to think that at such, a time as this, her 

1 ■ r • . ! fj : I ; 1 ' ; ’ 


An Unexpected Offer 253 


friend could not give her an unbiassed opinion, 

. - ' , * . ^ ; r t 

for Ena felt that no one could refuse her 
brother. And Heather wondered if she were 

0 0 

to refuse him, whether it would bring a break 
in her friendship with his sister. 

She went td bed that night still restless and 

f . 

undecided, wondering if the dictates of her 


yiiaTi fiov x •(.! 4 * 


heart would play her false. 

| * r t ^ 

For bv this time she had come to this con- 
* 

» { p * » r . ' 

elusion. Life with Captain Vaughan at her 
side wore a very roseate hue ; 'without him 
it would be a blank. And if she had been con- 


vinced that he reciprocated these sentiments, 
there would have been no cloud upon her hori- 
zon. There was little or no sleep for her. The 
storm that still swept on its wild way outside 
was a picture of the storm within her soul, but 
at length as another day dawned soft and fair 
with no signs of the wild weather that had 


preceded it, Heather's resolve was made. The 
dawning of a love which now surspired herself, 
overcame the pride that had battled fiercely for 
predominance. 

It was after breakfast in the garden that 
Heather gave her answer. She was gathering 
dahlias in an old-fashioned winding walk that 
led round the outskirts of the grounds, when 
a step behind her sent a quick flush to her 


254 


Heather’s Mistress 


cheek. It was Captain Vaughan, and he spoke 
with his usual simple directness. 

,T I have come for my answer, Miss Fotherin- 

M •' l A J J> v A 1 . . I 7 / i 

§ a y • ; . . » - ■ i ■ 

Then Heather faced him, and her eyes held 

his for a moment a,s she tried to read him 
through and through. 

“ Do you really want me to say Yes ? ” she 
asked a little unsteadily. .:.- i .. ■ 

. “I do indeed/’ was the grave reply. r( , 

{ Her eyes dropped. With a pretty grace she 
put both her hands; in his : 

Then I say it. 

i God bless you. . , . . 

. [ That was all, but it was enough. 

‘jbratrro vjw/ Mr// eji t no Jfpwa Ifija txufj rnioia 
iud duo 'c: uirfiiw nn< • . ■ . . 

lixrt bin llor. i > t 5 1 // jjI > y.nh •>. fj urx: • ■ i ; -I jj; 
h.nfl trull 'tni; ) j’»w/ Mr// orb h> on bji v/ 

s>rl I .'3.bi;rn a n v r> v lorun b rx ; I ; j.o I ; j i bT vxjtn* [ 

,i wtm; l Tri('p'irifi //on rbirlv/ y/M j: j > gxrm//cb 
*r I j jltfud Mul ixub o[>h<[ out 9fnn:nov<> 

null odj.rri .te/d/bun- . kf{W tl 

•gfri'r:ji!tjrg r.r>v/ orI2 .r/v/^.iir. *rorf r jyng 'jorlmoH 

txrdi din // pnibni// bonorrb -i; t -! )!• » m; rri rnthb.b 
norl'// .Rbrmurg of 1 i lo gJii/Dtrio o* [t burn i bol 
'iM oi fterjfi >binp j : j<r>> * ‘>rf brnibd cpb. r> 


MOlV'iWA VlJfiti 


0 •; s 


T)fl 1 1 f < ] ‘>0>i 


I » » I I 


yVi ‘ # / ]•’. / ! 


■-CW Uli 


vbr:rtf;vi> 


y 


r , 


i * r- t > 


.BU/i pi 


r p> 


npf: in r\- 


CHAPTER XX 


u j. JL_,xv 

Tor! Hi; rr>dv.- ,/r>> * L b u< v/ U>t\ ! f .if ob 

ABROAD 

KnofoiV t j > v/< 'n* rn-oi T>ff nbj ot on; 

4 4 T nf n nf U i n rr /-1 1 of ii v*K f linn « 

1 noil 


D; / < *n-« n i - o i 7 on n; 

Let nothing disturb thee, 
Nothing affright thee; 


All things are passing, 

God never changeth, 

r Patient endurance , . * 

i # • j i i ■■ 

Attaineth to all things.” — Longfellow. 

‘>r •/, • - if .i; i. ;>.• • • ; < 1 pm: yj ■ .)■ p; gu? 

END her a telegram, and tell her a let- 

. < O i f »•»/ ■ . ••••>/ f ! i r f f . ■ 1 1 ■ •• . i ' 

ter will follow.” ' ' " 


S 


U 


I could not do it. 


j v 


'{ :><■ 

“ What do you propose, then? ” 
r ’ Captain Vaughan and Heather were speak- 
ing, and they were out on the lawn after break - 
fast the next morning. Ena was there too in 
her chair, superintending a little gardening 
done by Jack. Captain Vaughan was going to 
His farm, but staved to discuss Heather’s in- 
tended trip abroad. 

“ It would not be right to throw her over at 
the last minute,” said Heather, looking at Cap- 
tain Vaughan rather pleadingly. 

He had a little frown between his eyes, for 


2 55 


.\y)A?s, 


Heather’s Mistress 


256 


he was strongly averse to her keeping to her 
engagement, and Heather still felt strangely 
shy of him. She turned to Ena. 

“ Oh, Ena, help me; you know I could not 
do it. What would she say, when all her 
preparations are made, and she is relying upon 
me to join her to-morrow at Victoria Sta- 
tion?” ’ • 

; ••• ; ;r,: $rrri;o A. 

” I don’t know what to say,” said Ena with 

a smile. The future of the two she loved best 

> ■; '■ 

in the world looked so bright to her, that notli- 

• *' r • ’ r ’ ■ • , 

ing else seemed to matter. “ I am sure,” she 

went on, “ we shall not consent to your- being 
abroad with her till next spring. But I confess 
it is very late now for you to refuse to go to 

her. * • f r t , ■. 

/. i':‘A . . . < k.i. n 

“ Well,” said Captain Vaughan, with a shrug 

f • 

of his shoulders, “ you must talk . it over 
together, and settle it your own way as you will 
not have my advice. My proposal is that she 
should be written to at once. She could very 
soon find another companion, it would only de- 
lay her trip for a week or two.".., r . f .,_ , 
He vvalked off. Heatlier looked after .him 

s ij / 'I * . • i ' '■ < ; 1 1 ! r 1 DO JOn DllfOW J I 

for a minute, then with light steps rejoined him 
before he reached the garden gate.,, ■ , M . V ; 
u You won’t be vexed with me if I go? ” she 

o 

asked. . . 


Abroad 


2 57 

< 

He stopped and laid his hand on her shoul- 
der. His tone was grave, but his eyes had that 
kindly humour in them that was one of his at- 
tractions to women. 

“ You won’t take care of yourself,” he said, 
“ and now I consider I have the right to take 
care of you.” 

“ You would not like me to do anything dis- 
honourable? ” Heather was smiling now, but 
she watched his face a little anxiously. 

” I don't think you could,” was the reply, 
“ but settle it as you will with Ena.” 

“ I think the best way for me to act is to go 
with Mrs. Macintyre and stay with her until 
she finds some one else to take my place. I will 
tell her what you wish. And a month abroad 
will not hurt me. Please say you approve of 
this.” * : . • 

“ I don’t approve, but I will try and be con- 
tent with it.” 

Pie went off, and Heather returned to Ena 
feeling lighter hearted at his consent. 

Both he and his sister wished to prolong her 
stay with them, but Heather never flinched 
where she saw her duty lay. 

Accordingly the next day found her making 
her departure, but not with the sad heart-sink- 


258 


Heather’s Mistress 


ings that she had anticipated a short time be- 
fore. - ... 

. f .1 

As she looked around the ; old priory, and 
gazed at it lying still and peaceful in the autumn 
sunshine, as she mounted the trap and let her 
eyes rest on the old stone porch with its quaint 
inscription, now almost hidden under the flam- 
ing creepers surrounding it, and waved a misty 
farewell to Ena in her wheeled chair, and her 
important attendant standing by her side, her 
heart was throbbing with bright hope and 
gladness. / 

“ I shall come back to it again, and it will be 
my home.” 

And if a little shadow lay on her path, if a 
little doubt of the strong figure by her side, 
seemed to rise in her heart, she stifled and 
stilled it instantly. 

“ He is a good, a noble man; an unsel- 
fish son and brother; and he will be as good to 
me as he has been to every one else.” 

Captain Vaughan was very silent during the 
drive, and Heather was quite content to follow 
his example. He looked after her comforts, and 
when the train was just moving off gave her a 
warm hand-grip. 

God bless and keep you. Write to us soon. 




Abroad 


259 


And remember that we expect you back before 
Christmas.” 

Heather leant back in her seat, and wondered 
if any girl had such an undemonstrative lover 
as she. Yet she assured herself, that she would 
rather have one such hand-grip from him, than 
dozens of flattering protestations of admiration 
and love from any one else, and for the rest of 
her journey she lived in a dream. 

She met Mrs. Macintyre as arranged at Vic- 
toria Station, and then indeed she had her hands 
full. An exacting, nervous and irritable com- 
panion on a long railway journey is always a 
trial. It was doubly so to Heather in her 
present position, and before three or four days 
had elapsed, she felt nearly worn out. 

Yet her patience and good nature never 
flagged, and even Mrs. Macintyre owned after 
a fortnight’s time that she suited her very well. 

But Heather could not leave her long in 
ignorance of her own plans, and when as gently 
as possible, she told her that her circumstances 
had changed, and that her friends wished her 
to return to them as, soon as she could be spared, 
there was trouble at once. Mrs. Macintyre was 
a woman who had never controlled her temper, 
or restrained her tongue; and she was furious 
at this change of purpose. 


>T 


):'/([( mUr- J \\ 


;! 


r 


260 Heather’s Mistress 

? ■ , J ■" , • i f ■ r i , ,/ < / . , -t : • 'I •‘•’i , r ' ' t ■ , t • ; 

t *■ i / , * ) k 1 I • 1 / ' ,4 \ i y * , j D • , > 1 /i .1 • i 1 . t .i . ,i i y l ; / 

“ You have deliberately deceived me; I en- 
gaged you for the winter, and you are trying 
to leave me stranded in a foreign place amongst 
strangers. But I will not have it. You are 
bound to me, and stay with me you shall, for 
the time we agreed upon ! Have I not given 
way to your nasty narrow cranks ! When you 
told me you never played for money on princi- 
ple, did I not generously concede to your re- 
quest that you should be allowed to read to me 
instead? Have I not denied myself the pleas- 
ure of my usual recreation in order to gratify 
your Pharisaical nature? It is only the pious 
people like yourself who can stoop to such mean 
actions, and you are with the wrong person let 
me tell you Miss Pother ingay if you think you 
can act so ! There would have been hundreds 
only too glad and thankful to step into your 
shoes'! ” 

“ I would not leave you Mrs. Macintyre until 

you have some one to take my place. I think 

■ • __ • 

you will not find it difficult, as you say, to find 
some one else. I am truly sorry. It would 
have been better not to come with you at all, 
but I could not bear to put you off at the last 
minatei ” *•* 

“ I will not hear a word more from you,' v 

J 

and Mrs. Macintyre literally stamped her foot. 


Abroad 


26 1 

“ I forbid you to mention the subject again. 
You dare not break your agreement with me, 
for I should simply take it into the law courts 
rather than give way. Pack our trunks to-night 
for Monte Carlo, and not another word! ” 

So to Monte Carlo they went, and the old 
lady solaced herself for the want of a congenial 

companion, by frequenting the gaming tables 

■ ■ / • » / • ... » .. , 

day by day. It was a time of unspeakable 
wretchedness to Heather, for though she never 
took part, she was dragged there against her 
will; and the very atmosphere seemed degrad- 
ing. 

But the end came in an unexpected way. 

Ena received a letter a fortnight after, which 

- 

made her cheeks blanche. She handed it to 
her brother without a word, and he sat for a 
moment after reading, as if considering his 

j I ; i ( , / • ' • • . • « j , 

course of action. 

'it f 

' : OW 1 wl i firf 

“ Dearest Ena, — I write to you because I feel I can 
give you fuller details than Captain Vaughn. I have 
gone through such a dreadful time this last twenty-four 
hours, that I hardly f know how to describe it. I told you 
how infatuated poor Mrs. Macintyre has been over these 

r • 

dreadful tables. She first won a great deal, but this 
last week has been losing steadily every day. The night 
before last, she came to my room and implored me to 
lend her some money. She told me she had lost every- 
thing she possessed, and must win it back. I did not 


< 


k-'T:> 


262 - Heather’s Mistress 

t . > 1 ■■ ■ : ! • , [A* 

know whether to believe her or not, but we had a dread- 
ful scene. I steadily refused to lend her one franc, and 
then — I could not help it — I think she wrought upon my 
feelings so that I felt I must speak plainly. And I 
spoke straight to her about her soul and the life that she 

was leading. I am thankful I did now, but I shall never 

■ 

forget her look of astonishment when I first began. Of 
course, she was very angry, but I begged her to listen to 
me. I told her I knew I was only a young girl, with 
not a quarter of her experience of the world, but that I 
had seen a little of it, and compared with my present life 
it was as chaff to wheat. And at last she grew calmer, 
and finally, to my perplexity and distress, she burst into 
tears, and said that there was no one in the wide world 
who cared for her. She was a ruined woman, and would 
die in the workhouse, and life was a tangle and hideous 
disappointment from beginning to end. She let me talk 
to her over an hour. I felt utterly inexperienced and 
helpless, and yet when I got my Bible and she let me 
give her a verse or two, I felt quite at rest about it. 
She said no one had ever spoken to her about such things 
before. I think she was utterly crushed by her losings, 
and so was more ready to listen. Then I begged her 
to come away from Monte Carlo, and when she said she 
had no ready money, I told her I would willingly lend 
her some for that purpose. So the next morning we 
left, and came straight on to Nice. We were nearly 
there -when there was the most awful shock I have ever 
felt in my life. I shall never forget the horror of it. 
It was a collision. You will perhaps see it in the papers 
before this reaches you. I remember nothing after the 
first shock. When I came to myself, I found myself 
with a number of others on the railway bank, doctors and 
officials rushing frantically about, and gesticulating and 
chattering as only Frenchmen can. I felt dreadfully 
queer and shaken, but found I was not injured in any 


. Abroad 


263 

» 

way, and my first thought was for Mrs. Macintyre. I 
can’t tell you what a shock it was to come across her 
poor body. She had been killed instantaneously, the 
doctors said, her skull fractured. I cannot tell you all 
I have been through. They seem, abroad, as if their 
one idea is to bury their dead instantaneously, and they 
hardly gave me time to telegraph to her lawyer before 
they were making arrangements for the burial. I am 
staying at this quiet hotel, and have just received a 
telegram from her lawyer saying he and a cousin of hers 
will be with me to-night. I feel almost as if it were my 
doing that we were in the accident. If I had not hur- 
ried her away from Monte Carlo, she might have been 
alive and well now ; and yet, would you not have acted 
in the same way, if you had been in my place? I can’t 
believe she is really gone, it seems so awful. Pray for 
me, won’t you? I am quite unnerved. Your loving 

“ Heather.” 

“ I shall go out to her and fetch her hack at 
once/’ he said, briefly. 

“ She may have started home before you 
can reach her.” 

“ I shall wire.” 

“ Poor dear child. What an awful expe- 
rience! How little we thought how she would 
be brought back to us.” 

Captain V aughan sent his telegram, but 
received one before he could start. 

“ Cyril here. Am returning with him.” 

- T . , ■ ' ’ t 

And so a few days after, Heather found her- 

. r ' . } ' * 

self with her sister in her London house. 


264 Heather’s Mistress 

/ ■ 1 

Bluebell received her affectionately. She was 
pleased with her engagement, and begged Cap- 
tain Vaughan to come up and stay with them 
for a short time. This he was unable to do, 

1 ’ * 

and Heather almost felt it a relief when she 
heard he was not coming. 

She had suffered more than she at first 
thought in the collision. And for days she did 
not leave her room. The doctor said it had 
been a great shock to her nerves, and she must 
be kept very quiet. 

Poor Heather felt that in such a gay house, 
and with the roar and bustle of the London 

'4 , # - • v • ♦ • » 

streets so close to her, that this was a difficult 
prescription to follow. But Bluebell was not 
very well herself, and determined to spend a 
quiet Christmas in the country, so in a few 
weeks’ time they went to their country house, 
and Heather’s health and spirits began to im- 
prove at once. 

It was in the middle of February that Blue- 
bell became the happy mother of a little son, 
and her joy and pride in her baby was intense. 

“ Oh, Heather,” she said one evening as they 
were in the nursery seeing him put into his little 
cot, “ I never thought I should be so foolish 
over a child. I think he will be my idol now. 
If anvthing could wean me from societv, and 


Abroad . 265 


the gay life you condemn, he will. 1 beiieve I 
could be happy in a cottage with him in my 

> # j 

arms.” 

“ He has been sent to you in love,” responded 
•Heather gravely, “ let him draw you to the One 
who has given him to you. 

i * 

“ Yes. I really mean to be a good mother. 
He is such a charge to train. I should never 

like him to grow up and find anything in his 

» 

mother to condemn. I mean to be everything 
that is good and noble now that I am a mother.” 


She spoke in the full joy and confidence of 
her mother’s love, and for a time was very 
softened. Yet when her vigorous health and 
spirits returned to her, she plunged afresh into 
gaiety, and laughed at her sister’s pleadings. 
Her love for her child seemed almost a 

1 • . ji : !'■•■. > i 

passion, and Cyril shared in the adoration. But 

. • t 

like manv others, Bluebell cast all serious 

: I t l s • • * X* 

thoughts away from her, and refused to recog- 
nise that the gift was from God, and that she 

* 


might be called upon to relinquish it. 

About this time Captain Vaughan came to 
pay his long promised visit. 

Heather met him with mingled feelings of 
shvness and delight. She had not seen him 
since she had been abroad, and her correspond- 
ence with him was rather constrained. She 


266 


Heather’s Mistress 


still had the feeling that she did not know him, 
and that his heart was not hers. 

She was alone in her sister's sunny drawing- 
room when he arrived. He came in with his 

i , 

kindly smile and cheery voice, and for the first* 

time since they had been engaged, stooped and 

, , + , / • * 

kissed her. It brought the blood with a rush 
to her cheeks, and almost overpowered her, but 
asking after Ena and hearing the Priory news, 
put her soon at ease. 

“ And when are you coming back to us for 
good? ” he asked presently. “ There is no 
need to wait much longer, is there? ” 

Heather looked at him with startled eyes, and 
he did not press the question. 

But before many days passed Bluebell asked 
Heather the same question. 


u Do you want to get rid of me? ” Heather 

J ■ \ : ^ t . . , _ . f | ( 

asked with a smile. 

' , ' . .... * . *; v r 

“ I want you to be happy in a home of your 
own like I am. Why should you wait? I 
always think long engagements are a mistake. 

' • ■ q . i • i r / * 9 

When vou have once made up your mind to 

" . - ; fr H | .r ; r v r , . 

marry a man, the sooner it is done the better. 

I suppose your mmd is made up : 

“ Of course it is. Why do. vou ask? ” 


rr , 


* ! 


“ Oh, sometimes I think you are a queer 

r t ^ • f f • s 

* . i \ • ' . f ' • . • . - ■ " - , ‘ W 1 1 f • ' \ , • ? * 

couple, so dreadfully matter-of-fact and un- 


Abroad 


267 

demonstrative! And then there is the sister. 
I wish you were not going to be saddled with 
her. An invalid sister-in-law is rather trying. 
I think she ought to live elsewhere/’ 

“ If Ena were not there, I wouldn’t marry at 
all,” said Heather with some heat. 

Bluebell leant back in her chair, and looked 
at her sister, half amused, half perplexed. 

“ It is the sister you are going to marry, 
then, not him? I thought so.” 

“ Oh, Bluebell, don’t tease so. You know I 

wouldn’t marry a man if I did not care for 
him.” ' , 

And Heather walked away, with her head a 
little bit uplifted, whilst Bluebell called after 
her mischievously : 

“ He ought to take you to a desert island for 
your honeymoon, to find out whether it is he or 
his sister who has won your affections.” . 

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J I' Tl I •'< ' ' * (1 j< >f| ‘.i . ' / : . » r / { 

CHAPTER XXI 

I'Jii / •- i 7 fj / 1 1 : J i i'LM JO > ! ) / 1 ii i 1 * | 1 

A TREASURE TAKEN 


J* 


r ' * ■ ■? 


r. r. 





♦ M > / 1 * j • i . J f - / j . /J * 

” Her little child hath gone to sleep, 

Why should a mother watch and weep? 

Earth’s ills, were gathering round its nest. 

He crept into a Father’s breast.” 

U - i, C/rodl I w . ; w ' jojrr ,rr)fh 

NOTHER lovely spring .afternoon/ re- 
minding Heather strangely of the first 
day she saw the Priory. But now 
she was coming to it as a bride, and as she 
entered the old stone porch leaning on her 
husband's arm, she looked up with 1 1 a happy 

* . r r 4 I 

smile. Sic vos non vobis,” she repeated ; 
“ you must remind me of that sometimes, Ber- 
tram ; I hope I shall not be tempted to forget 
it.” 


Captain Vaughan knew his young wife too 
well to think that would be possible, and later 
in the evening when they stood together watch- 
ing the sun set in all its golden beauty, he drew 
her gently to him. 

“ Will an old man make you happy? ” he 
asked. 


268 


A Treasure Taken 269 

- ' i • • • i ».•!.» I'j •• • r ) M , ,rl ;.jf] 

Heather’s doubts and fears had long gone 
now. She raised her face trustingly to his. 

“ I never thought I could be happy," she 
said ; and then he laughed. 

“ Your sister had her doubts of me. She 
told me I was too undemonstrative. But I 
cannot wear mv heart on my sleeve. From 
the first day that you set your foot inside this 
house I knew that if I were to have a wife at 
all, it must be you. I was afraid our life would 
be too quiet for you, and the disparity in our 
ages made me waver." 

“ But you ventured at last? " Heather said, 
laughingly, “ and I think I was never so aston- 
ished in my life. If you ever do such a thing 
again, let me advise you to show a little more 
warmth of feeling before you propose; you 
were always like an iceberg to me." 

“ I think one venture will be enough," Cap- 
tain Vaughan replied, humorously. “ I will 
see how this one turns out first." 

r . ■ t 

And then secure in each others trust and love, 
they settled down as husband and wife, and 
Ena’s cup of happiness was full. One evening 
towards the end of June, they were again in the 
garden. Heather was picking some roses ; 
Captain Vaughan resting in a lounge chair 
under one of the old elms, for he had been away 


2jo Heather’s Mistress 

od. n o i V- ?T /•• 

from home on business all day and had re- 
turned very tired ; and Ena reading an article in 
the Times by his side. Heather hovered about, 
occasionally putting in a remark, and presently 
her husband called her. • ; r ! i • 

“ Come here,” lie said ; for he was watching 
her every movement C “ you are looking quite 
pale; why are you so restless? Leave the roses 
in peace, and listen to this article." 

She came and stood over him, with her hand 
lightly resting on his shoulder. 

“ I am listening,” she said ; “ but I don’t care 
for the subject. I am afraid I am too insular 
to care about quarrels in the French senate.” 

Captain Vaughan drew another chair to his 
sideband made her, sit down; but directly Ena 
had finished, she got up, and wandered away 
by herself again. This time Captain Vaughan 
followed hehvand found her leaning over a 
stone wall at the end of the flower garden, 
which overlooked the valley and river below. 
When she turned round. w and saw him she 
smiled ; but the creases in her forehead did not 


disappear.- bna S r , ,7 

“ Welljf’ he said, taking out his pipe, and 
leaning against the walk rather lazily; “ what 
is the matter with you this evening? ; Why are 


you so perturbed ? ” 

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A Treasure Taken 


“ I don’t think I am perturbed,” Heather 
replied, evasively; ‘'it is very close to-night 
Do you think we are going to have a storm ? ” 

“ I should not say so.” 

There was silence for a minute, then he said 
lightly, watching her keenly the while : 

“ I am not to be honoured with your con- 
fidence then?” . . 

Heather flushed up at once; then turning 
round, in her pretty, graceful way, she laid her 
hand on his arm. . • , ,, 

“ You won’t laugh at ,me? ” ; 

“Do I ever?” 

“ Yes, with your eyes, if not with your 
mouth.” 

T . ■ < ' 1 1 r ’ i i 1 1 .' J - 1 i i 

“ I will shut them.” 

“ I don't think I will tell you.” 

Captain Vaughan was a wise man. He said 
nothing, only waited, 

And then, with a little sigh, Heather looked 
away to some dary grey clouds rolling by .in. 
the distance. 

“ I feel; oppressed,” she said. u I have felt 
so all day-. I can’t describe it to you, but I’m 
sure there’s trouble coming, and — and Blue- 

be}l,S ip 4.1j,j ( |jsr[ ; * [ r ; . . ii* vt r«[) Ujfl // 

Captain Vaughan did not laugh, but he 

raised his eyebrows. Heather went on with 


t a 


. ; 


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ZJ l 


Heather’s Mistress 


knitted brow. “ I dreamt of her all last night, 
and I haven't had her out of my thoughts all 
day. I feel as if she is in trouble, and it makes 

* 9 ► t i 

me uneasy.’' 

Captain Vaughan put his arm round her, and 

^ . 

drew her to him gently. 


u 


You mustn’t get fanciful, little woman. I 
thought you were too sensible to be so swayed 
by your imagination.” 

“ I am sure I shall hear some bad news,” 
Heather said, in a troubled voice, as she tight- 
ened her hold of his coat sleeve. “ We are 

' • r 

twins, Bertram. People may laugh at it, but 
I remember when we were quite children, I al- 

f »• >> t 

ways knew if Bluebell were in trouble; even 

when she was quite away from me.” 

• 9 1 * . 

“ Don't get into the way of anticipating 
trouble. You will make yourself more mis- 
erable than you are intended to be.'’ 

“ You don’t believe in it? Do you think I 
am mistaken ? ” ' *' n 

Heather raised her face So wistfully; that her 

J 7 

‘ i 4 * ' t 9 * 1 ‘ *¥" t 

husband had not the heart to laugh at 1 her. 

* • • • b 

“My dear child,” he said, gently; “if you 

' i i ^ * • y 

are anxious about her; pray for her and leave 

• f 

it. What do you think could happen to her? 

• • 

She was quite well when you heard last, was 
she not? ” 


1 j 7/ 


>t 


A Treasure Taken 273 

“ Yes, she is in town. I will try and think it 
fancy. Talk to me about other things to take 
my mind off.” 

Captain Vaughan did his best to comply with 
this request, but Heather was not at all herself 
that evening, and she had unconsciously so im- 
pressed her husband with her sense of impend- 
ing trouble, that he was not in the least sur- 
prised the next morning, when a telegram was 
brought up to the house for her. It’s contents 
were brief. 

“ Come to me at once. 

‘‘ Bluebell." 

' 

Yes, after eighteen months of happy married 
life, Bluebell was called to go through her first 
crushing trouble. 

She had come up for the season in town, 
without a shadow on her path. Her boy was 
growing into a most lovely and engaging child, 

t 

and when she was not enjoying the society of 
her friends, she was always to be found in his 
nursery. She had been fortunate enough to 
secure the services of a very trustworthy, and 
experienced nurse ; so had no anxiety about his 
welfare. 

One afternoon her husband came into the 
drawing-room and found mother and son in the 

i.' • ’ /(] • .}» I r\r Ti 


274 


Heather’s Mistress 


? , • . . 

midst of a regular gambol on the hearthrug. 

He remonstrated with a smile, on his wife’s 

undignified position, and she rose to her feet, 

tossing her boy in the air, with all a mother’s 
' . . . 

pride in his bonny beauty. 

“Isn’t he a brill joy, my sweet! Your 

* 

mother shall crawl on all fours with you if she 

i 

pleases, and you shall satisfy her craving for a 
romp, as her cynical old husband never can! ” 
Baby Percival chuckled with delight at this 
thrust at his father, and diving amongst his 
mother's curly tresses, wrought such havoc 
there with his chubby fingers, that Cyril had to 
come to the rescue; and then, with wife on one 
knee and son on the other, he proceeded to de- 
liver a mild harrangue on a time and season 
for all things. 

i , , ‘ 

It was a pretty family scene, and one that 

1 J . ’ir 

lingered in the parents memories for long 

■ ■ ' * 

afterwards. 

* . > < . , , • ■ i \ - ’ i ■ . s , f 

Onlv. the next dav, the nurse remarked on. 
Baby’s listlessness. It was the heat, his mother 
sa jd — “ We shall be going out of town soon ; 
he is looking pale ; the country will soon set him 
up again.” 

She went out to dinner that night, and when 
she and her husband returned, were met on 
their door-step by their doctor. 


< M 


A I reasure Taken 


2 75 " 

“ Your nurse has called me in,” he said, 
gravely; I think the child has had a touch of 
the sun — ” ’ , • , 

Bluebell’s cheeks blanched at once. 

“ Nothing serious is it? ” asked her husband, 
quickly. 

“ We will hope not. I will come again to- 
morrow early. I have given your nurse all 
necessary instructions.” , 

Bluebell had dashed upstairs with her usual 
impetuosity, and her husband found her a few 
minutes later, leaning over her child’s cot with 
agonised anxiety, the nurse trying in vain to 
soothe her. 

« . ,L I 

She turned her eyes up to her husband's face 
as he drew near, and her expression was like 
that of some wounded animal brought to bay. 

“ She won’t let me touch him, Cyril ! I’m 
his mother. He is ill ; and he shall be ill in his 
mother’s arms ! ” 

With difficulty she was persuaded to let her 
child alone; but an hour after, her husband 
came again into the nursery, and found her in 
a low rocking-chair, with her baby in her arms. 

“ I have him fast,” she said, “ and ” — lower- 
ing her voice to one of intense determination, 
“ I shall let no one, — no, not death itself, take 
him from me ! ” 


Heather's Mistress 


276 

Cyril wondered if she were losing her senses. 
He noted the fever spots on her cheeks, the 
dark circles round her eyes, and the anguish 
that shone out of them. 

" You are exciting yourself needlessly, dar- 
ling," he said. “ Dr. Hope did not say he was 
in danger.” 

Bluebell looked at her husband, then at her 
child. 

“ Dr. Hope is not a mother,” she said. “ I 
know ! I can tell. He hardly knows his 
mother, my bonny baby boy! ” 

And all through the silent hours of the night, 
she sat with her child in her lap, prepared to 
wrestle with the unseen foe, so close at 
hand. ‘ . 

At early dawn the doctor was sent for, and 
he came in haste, but a look at the baby’s figure, 
with his curly golden head hanging like a dead 
weight upon his mother’s arm, told him the 
truth. • ■ : • : 

He shook his head sadly. 

“ I am afraid it is only a question of time.” 

■‘You must save him, doctor; you • must. 
He shall not be taken from me. He hasn’t yet 
learnt to call me mother ; his life is onlv be- 

j 

ginning ; it is all in front of him. I tell you he 
shall not die ! ” < ‘ 


» 


A Treasure Taken 277 

Doctor Hope stood silently by. He had 
witnessed too many of these scenes to be very 

4 

deeply moved; and yet something in the pitia- 
ble defiance of this young mother, the hopeless 
fight against a power that was going to crush 
her in spite of all her struggles, brought a husk- 
iness into his voice, as he replied, — 

“ Life and death are in higher hands than 
mine. God alone can save your child.” 

“ Then pray, oh, Cyril pray, all of you 
pray ! ” 

Bluebell’s voice rang out, and it was shrill 
and metallic in tone. Her husband stood by 
her side, working his moustache up and down 
fiercely, to hide his emotion ; the nurse stood 
behind her mistress’s chair, and the doctor on 
his knees held the tiny pulse that was beating 
so fitfully, so feebly. 

There was no response to Bluebell’s appeal, 
only silence. 

She talked recklessly on ; hardly knowing 
what she said, “ only God save him. Well, 
He will, He must , He gave him to me. I 
used to love God once, He remembers,' He won’t 
be so cruel as to take him. If He takes him, I 
shall go, too, I shall ! I will not live without 
him. Oh pray, Cyril, pray ! Be' quick, the 
minutes are flying. I am like a stone ; I can’t 


* 


Heather’s Mistress 


278 

do it ; some one must ; will you see him die for 
want of a prayer ! ” 

A sob rose in Cyril’s throat. He turned 
despairing eyes towards the doctor. And he 
did not fail them. 

“ Oh, God Almighty, we beseech Thee to 
save this child's life for Christ’s sake. 
Amen.” 

There was stillness. The angel of death 
hovered above as if awaiting God’s command. 

But in love and pity the word was given, 
and the angel softly descended. 

Baby opened his blue eyes, and the sweetest 
smile hovered over his lips. But his look and 
smile were not at his mother, and she saw and 
understood. 

Only the ticking of the doctor’s watch in his 
hand was heard, and then a little child’s tired 
sigh, and a sharp agonising cry from a mother’s 
breaking heart. 

One more baby spirit gathered in all its fresh 
innocence and beauty above, one more empty 
cot and childless home. 

An hour after, the telegram was sent to 
Heather, and she reached her sister that same 
evening. She was met in the hall by Cyril. 

“ It’s the boy,” he said, huskily ; “ he has been 
taken from its. Go to his mother, and get her 


I 


A Treasure Taken 279 

to eat something if you can; she has touched 
nothing for twenty-four hours.” 

Without a word, Heather sped up the stairs, 
and was shown into her sister’s darkened bed- 
room. She found her seated in her easy chair, 
her hands locked tightly together, but lying 
listlessly upon her lap. She looked up, and 
Heather almost started. Could this white- 
strained face, with vacant hard stare and grim 
set mouth, belong to her bright and sunny sis- 
ter? She seemed to have aged ten years. 

And then in a moment, Heather had her 
arms round her, and was sobbing out, — * 

“ My darling, I knew of your trouble yes- 

* * * ' • , 

terday. I would have come to you, even if I 
had received no telegram, for I felt you would 
need me. How did it happen? Can you tell 
me? ” 

“ Yes,” said Bluebell, in an unmoved tone. 
“ I can tell you every detail. God has struck 

r ; - * 

hard at last. He couldn't have sent me a worse 
punishment, could he? He knew better than 
you can what my baby was to me. I suppose 
He gave me my chance of serving Him in my 
prosperity, and as I didn't do it, has begun to 

r { 1 T 

take away from me ! Begun ! He has taken 
my all, and it will not draw me heavenwards. 
Cruelty will not draw me ! ” 


28 o 


Heather’s Mistress 


“ Oh, hush, hush; dear. God is never cruel. 
He only wounds to heal. Tell me about your 
darling.” 

Bluebell gave her all the details in a hard, 
dry voice. 

” Come and see him,” she said, “ Ihave only 
just come away ; nurse won't let me stay 
longer.” 

She led the way into the nursery, and the 
sight of the little clothes, the toys, and all the 
child’s belongings, brought the tears with an- 
other rush to Heather's eyes. The mother 
drew aside the curtains of the little cot, and 
gazed with tearless eyes upon her boy. 

Like a little waxen image he lay, nestled in a 
bed of white flowers. His little hands were 
clasped across his breast, and the long lashes, 
resting on his cheek, looked as if they ought to 
lift and show his mischievous blue eyes beneath 
them. Heather bent and kissed the white, 
fair brow, and softly stroked the golden 
curls. ’ , } ' v : i 

“ Happy baby,” she murmured. ” He will 
never give you a heartache now — an anxious 
thought.” \ f r; ■ ' l\ 

w He never would have done that had he 
lived,” said Bluebell, coldly. ; [ • r 
“How can you tell? You would have 


A Treasure Taken . 


28 1 


brought him up for the world, and think of 
some of the men we have met, who have had 
just such careful love from their mothers, as 
you would have given him.” 

“ I would have taught him to be good,” said 
Bluebell, gazing with thoughtfulness on the 
silent little form. “ I think I might have been 
given another chance.” , ■ v . 

“ I suppose God felt He could train him bet- 
ter Himself,” said Heather, softly. “ Don’t 
think of him as dead, darling, he has been 
moved into God’s garden. You will thank God 
one day that He took him before he knew either 
sorrow or sin.” 

Bluebell made no reply, she continued to 
gaze upon her child with stony eyes. 

“ I keep thinking he may wake up,” she 
said drearily, “ it’s the awful stillness that ap- 
pals one so. And yet I wish I could be lying- 
dead beside him. I have nothing to live for 


now. 




>r 


>bd/: 


“ Oh Bluebell, not your husband? ” 

“ I am sick of everybody and everything, oh, 
my boy, my boy! ” She flung herself on her 
knees by the cot, and bowed her head upon the 
little form. 

Heather knelt quietly by her and prayed. 
She felt it was the only thing she could do. 


282 


Heather’s Mistress 


Who could comfort a mother but the Com- 
forter Himself? 

“ Oh God have pity upon us. Thou hast 

) t • . i v * 

done it in love, let Bluebell feel this. Comfort 
her ; draw her to Thyself, and let her realise 

p * 

that the same arm that is round her child, is 

1 * ► 

round her. And comfort Cyril, too, and make 
this heavy trial into a real blessing to them 

* ► ► * w f • , f • p' r 

both. For Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” 

Then sobs shook Bluebell’s frame; dry, chok- 
ing sobs at first, but soon the tears came, and 
proved a real relief to her heated brain. And 

* 'ft ^ 

then by the side of her dead child, Bluebell 
crept back to the feet of that Saviour, whom 
she had left. 

"Have pity on me!” she sobbed, "I want 

ft t 1 « j 

him to be mine still, though Thou hast taken 
him. Help me to meet him again. Forgive 
my worldliness, my love of everything but 

Thee. Take me back, receive me, pardon me. 

* • 

Make me believe Thou hast done it in love. 


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CHAPTER XXII 


r • a p f , f 

DUTY A GOOD MISTRESS 

.‘r. , r ■ I J ' I'Ji.jJN 

“ Calmly we look behind us, on joys and sorrows past, 
We know that all is mercy now, and shall be well at lsat. 
Calmly we look before us — we fear no future ill : 
Enough for safety and for peace, if Thou art with us 
still/’—//. L. L. 


H EATHER stayed with her sister till 
after the funeral. And Bluebell after 
the first violence of her grief was 
over, was strangely calm and self-controlled. 
Only once, when her husband called her by his 
pet name, “ Minnehaha,’’ did she turn upon him 
almost fiercely : 

“ Never call me that again, for there will be 
no more laughter for me.” 

Heather was urged to stay with them longer, 
but she felt that husband and wife would draw 

.-.Mir i j j , ; . , $ * 7 -T \ r , , j ( ? . r rZ ' C ? 

the closer together after she left. 

“ I have my husband to think, of,” she said 
to Bluebell as they were talking in Heather’s 
room one evening. 

“ Oh I always think you are only half mar- 

283 




Heather’s Mistress 



ried,” said Bluebell with a little of her old im- 
petuosity, “ he has his sister.” 

“ But his sister is not his wife.” 

And Heather’s tone was regal. 

“ Do you really love him? ” asked Bluebell, 
but when she saw the light that sparkled in 
Heather’s eyes she sighed. 

u Well we must part. Cyril wants to take 

... 

me abroad ; I suppose I must go. Do you know 
I have been thinking about our two selves a 


great deal. I suppose we were children of many 
prayers. We never had a temptation to speak 

0 “ v < *** 

of, until we forsook our quiet nest and plunged 
into gaiety. I think I had more qualms about 
it first than you had, but it was strange how we 
drifted apart. I suppose God was calling ns 
both back; you listened and I shut my ears.” 
“ No,” said Heather, “ I often wonder at it 
myself. I only went home because I thought 

' » ■ / j / 

it was my duty; not because I thought our gay 
life was wrong.” 

“ Well, I shut my eyes to duty. I tell you 

* ' r " . ’ 

honestly, Heather, I have been quietly fighting 

r 

against God ever since our first season in town. 
I knew in my heart before that year was over, 

• _ r ■ ? ' ’■ i • i j 

that the world was swallowing up all my ambi- 
tions, my desires, and my affections. I knew I 
could not serve two masters, and I deliberately 


Duty a Good Mistress • 285 

chose the world. When I was going to be mar- 
ried, you impressed me tremendously. I felt I 

# » 
ought to be different, but I put it off. When 

my darling came to me, I almost prayed I might 
be given the strength to change my life. But f 
still clung on to everything that made life pleas- 
ant t'o me. And I have found out this for my- 
self, Heather, I am not judging any one else. 
I suppose I am too impetuous. I must throw 
myself heart and soul into everything 1 do. 
But — I cannot live a society life, and be*at peace 
with God. The two things don't go together 
Some people say they can. I think they must 
be satisfied with a very little religion; not the 
sort that goes deep down into your soul, and 
affects every fibre of your being. I have been 

• * , 1 > 

fighting, as I say, against God all this time, 
and I knew it.” ' 

“ I think your religion must have been more 

than a mere form in our girlish days,” said 

* » 

Heather, looking at her sister thoughtfully. 

“ It was. I often used to wonder if you felt 
it as deeply as I did.” 

“ No, it seemed to come upon me quite as 
a fresh revelation.” 

“ I was watching yesterday morning a few 
sheep being turned into an enclosure in the 
Park,” said Bluebell gently. I noticed the ones 


286 . 


Heather’s Mistress 


who had to be driven and beaten before they 
would enter, and those who ran in without any 
trouble/' 

There was silence; then Heather said, 

“ You think I have run in without any trou- 
ble? ” 

“ Yes; and I have had to be driven. I am 
seeing the love of it dimly. Prosperity would 
never have drawn me, I am afraid/' 

Tears filled Heather's eyes at the quiet 
pathos oj: it.. She kissed her sister, saying in 
a whisper, , . 

“ Thank God we are both inside. Mav we 
keep there,” 

The next day Captain Vaughan came to 
fetch his wife. 

They were at Paddington Station, just start- 
ing, when he asked her rather abruptly — 

“ Would you like to go round and have a 
look at your old home again? It would be a 
little trip, and would not take us much out of 
our way.” , 

“ I should love it,” she exclaimed, enthusi- 
astically ; “■ I should like to call at the farm and 
see Annie and her husband.”' 

‘"And some of the old village characters, 
eh ? 

“ Yes,” Heather said, a pink colour coming 


Duty a Good Mistress 287 


into her cheeks; “ I should like to have Watty's 
opinion of my husband.” 

So, that afternoon, in the sweet summer sun- 
shine, Heather and her husband walked up the 

* i 

old village street. 

“ It seems one of the strangest things in 
life," said Heather, thoughtfully, ” that if you 
go away from a place for ages, you come back 

1 * • 1 * 

to it and find the people doing exactly the same 
things at the same time with a clockwork regu- 
larity that makes you almost start. You won- 
der if all your life since has been a dream. 
Look, there are Watty and Ralph gossiping on 
the old bridge. Watty has still got his letter- 

bag, and Ralph his paper.” 

» • * * . 

They walked up to them, and much disturbed 
" ' • • • * 
their equanimity. 


“ Sakes aliVe!” ejaculated Ralph, “ ’Tis 
Miss Heather and her man ! Well, to be sure, 
what a sight!” - 

“ Yes, here we are,” said Heather, in her old 

T f > » . , 

bright tone, and with the little imperious toss 
of her head; “ and what do you think of us? ” 

. m t . ^ (L 

“ Do you remember me? ” asked Captain 
Vaughan with his cheery smile. “ The wayside 
lodger who came down to fish one summer? ” 


“Ay, ay,” said Watty, shaking his head, 
knowingly, “ us knowed ye was after a bigger 
fish nor ye. could drag out o’ this ’ere bit o’ river ! 


288 


Heather’s Mistress 


An I sez to Ralph here, when you was agone, 
that ye had the looks of a adventurer after 
matrimony! ” 

How they laughed ! And then Watty seized 
his bag, more eager to spread the news of 
Heather's appearance than to stay and see her 
himself. 


“ Time is flyin'. 'Tis only folks like Ralph 
here that can afford to daudle with leisurable 
people holiday makinb Good arternoon to ye, 
sir. Good arternoon, Miss Heather/' 

He lounged off, his bag swinging from side 
to side, and after a little chat with Ralph, 
Heather made her way to the farm. 

Annie and George were delighted to see them 
and insisted upon their having a cup of tea be- 
fore they left. Then they went to the old 
house which was still empty, looking more deso- 
late and forsaken than ever. 

Heather's thoughts went back to that dread- 

4 


fill day, when she had sobbed out her heart 
upon the old dial, and Captain Vaughan guessed 
a little what was passing through her mind. 

“ We mustn’t let this be a sad day/’ he said. 

Heather looked up at him with misty eyes. 

“ No,” she said, smiling, “ it is not going to 
be. God has been too good to me, for me to 
be sad.” 


Duty a Good Mistress 289 




“ I wonder if you will love the Priory 
as much as you do this? ” 

“ I think I do more. The associations with 
this one are not altogether happy ones. We 
used to look upon it almost like a prison when 
Abigail was cross. Now let us come and see 
her.” 

So to the cosy little thatched cottage they 
went, and Abigail opened the door herself. 
Rachael was away visiting a friend. Abigail 
was delighted and tearful, which made Heather 
wonder if she were getting softer with increas- 
ing age. She had heard of Bluebell’s trouble, 
and turned to Captain Vaughan with fervour: 
“ Ay, sir, you have the best of the two, but 
Pm thankful Miss Bluebell has seen the error of 
her ways. 1 never forget to pray for them, 
both night and morn. And Miss Heather has 
chosen well, for we’ve heard you are on the 
Lord’s side yourself, sir. . We always hoped — 

Rachael and me — that Miss Heather would 

-*-**--*- - -•*» 

meet with a sober, Godfearing man. She al- 
ways from a child had a stern idea of duty, and 
would go straight on without a falter, as I 
hope she will to the end of her life. The only 
crooked turn she took was when her poor, mis- 
guided cousin persuaded her to go to London. 
But she saw her mistake, and came back to us, 


290 


Heather’s Mistress 


and I wish her and yourself happiness, sir, with 
all my heart ! ” 

When they had said good-bye to the faithful 
old servant, and were walking through the quiet 
lanes to the station, Captain Vaughan turned to 
his wife and drew her hand through his arm. 

“ Did you take your husband from a sense of 
duty, little woman? ” 

1 was once afraid duty had led you to pro- 
pose to me,” said Heather, laughing. 

“ Well, duty is a good mistress." 

" But. love is better," urged Heather. 

‘‘ We will have a combination of them in our 
life. It was your following duty so con- 
scientiously that first made me wish to have you 
always by my side. I have found the old saying 
true — 


**’ ‘ Duty only frowns when you flee from it. 

Follow it, and it smiles upon you.’ ” 

t " 1 

They walked on. The evening sun was set- 
ting across the meadows in front of them, and 
presently thev stood still and watched it slowlv 
fade awav. Heather's face was soft and wist- 
ful as she watched its glowing rays. Then her 
eves met her husband’s, and she smiled in per- 
feet trust. 


Duty a Good Mistress 291 

“ I suppose all earthly joys fade sooner or 
later/’ she said. 

“ And then we shall be gathered into the land 
where our sun shall rise to set no more.” 

























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